


Silence in Your Eyes, Warmth in My Heart

by IamTheWalrusHearMeRoar13



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Bromance (lol), Brotherly Bonds, Canon-Typical Violence, Comatose, Deathclaw Surprise (XD), Enter the Dreamscape, F/F, F/M, Freak Accidents, Galavanting in Power Armor, Hidden Feelings, Love Triangles, M/M, Mischief, Movie/TV Show/Video Game/Literature References, Night Terrors, Sadistic Urges, Substance Abuse, genderbent, vengeance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:51:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamTheWalrusHearMeRoar13/pseuds/IamTheWalrusHearMeRoar13
Summary: Victor Brent wakes up to a world crumbled and shattered.  Upon meeting Paladin Danse, he feels something not unlike hope strike into him.  The unfolding of something beautiful between them is astonishing, yet often Victor is cock-blocked.  XDAll the while, however, a sarcastic mercenary finds himself being ever more drawn to our favorite Vault Dweller.





	1. The Day is My Enemy, the Night My Friend

From the moment he tumbled out of the cryogenic pod, he sought vengeance, spitting his rage; his killer instinct from his time in the U.S. Army before the Great War, as the Wastelanders often referred to it, and that feral angst dwelled within him often.

 _If Ashen had survived, if she hadn't been shot by that.._ animal... Victor thought longingly, blinking back tears that he knew would never come.   _She'd hate every passing second he lived, too._

All too suddenly, he was ripped from his thoughts by a sudden transmission picked up by his Pip-boy:  
_... Brotherhood of Steel Squad Gladius.._ A short burst of static.  
_We're holed up at the Cambridge Police Station.  We're running low on supplies, and down a man.._ A slight pause.  
_This is Scribe Haylen, requesting backup from anyone within the transmission range.._

Victor had been so consumed by his primal need to take a deserving life, he hadn't walked two steps before tripping over the German Shepard, earning a surprised yelp and a nauseating somersault forward as he lurched headlong into the dirt.

"SHIT!" He cursed, instantly feeling the whiplash.  "Dogmeat, what the _fuck!_ "

The dog laid on his belly, hiding his face with his huge paws, whimpering more like a pouting child than a dog.

 _Victor Brent, you towering oaf, don't blame it on him!_  a voice chided him from the back of his mind.

He looked around, barely recognizing the decrepit police station.  He'd hardly managed to dust himself off before a deep, tinny voice shouted over what sounded like garbled snarling from all directions.  "Civilian in the perimeter!  Check your fire!"

"Damn, _already?!_ " He scoffed, glaring up at a man clad in full power armor, though he was nearly as tall as the hulking unit shining his helmet's light directly at him; he barely even wore more than a ragged pair of jeans, wool gloves, and the now useless tracker collar blinking in red around his neck, seeing as whoever had trapped him in it was most likely long dead, by now.

He didn't have time for this.  Instead, he tossed his pack to the ground, pelting deranged, rotting corpses (so he assumed; he'd been obsessed with the scenario of a zombie apocalypse, ever since his father had shown a much younger, softer Victor Brent the slow-raging horror of Romero's zombie movies as a child) with cryogenic grenades he had hoarded ever since his return home from Overseas.  Just in case he ever wanted someone to really suffer.  Just in case he knew they'd die frozen in surrender, scared shitless if not for the icy effect that dulled them as he'd tear them limb from limb.

"Paladin, watch out!" Victor recognized the woman's voice; she'd sent out the distress call.

Hesitating, he made up his mind and ran towards the heavily armored man, lunging forward to catch a feral — as he'd caught wind of another soldier describing them — in his well-muscled arms as it had rushed for him.  The man looked down, and Victor couldn't discern his sharp intake from inside the helmet to be shock, or merely annoyance.  Enjoying the sickly _squelch_ it made, he then decided to crush the mangled, writhing body at its head, enjoying the manic thrill as its face spattered gore between his biceps.

"What the.." came the bewildered reaction from the helmet speakers.  Seeming to snap out of it, he fired shot after shot at the stragglers, his laser rifle only managing to nick three of them, merely crippling another.

"Dogmeat!  Finish the job!" he exclaimed, revealing his intention to show off.

Loud barking answered his command, and the big dog tackled an unscathed feral, knocking it to the ground under his weight as he tore his teeth savagely into its throat, the strangled, wet rasping welling up from the hideous thing like music to Victor's ears.

A deep throat clearing came from behind him, and immediately he longed for more bloodshed, more gory memories in the making.  He whirled around, bare fists raised up instinctively.  The mechanical suit was motionless, and he searched around for the source of the voice.

"Well.. you _are_ tall, for a Wastelander, to say the least." A man clad in an orange and grey jumpsuit strode out from behind the suit, not too much shorter than Victor himself.  "But you've clearly either been recently acquainted with a large dose of Fury, or you take pride in seeing innards and bodily fluid."

"I suppose it's an acquired pastime.."

"Either way, we appreciate the assistance, Civilian, but why are you here?" he asked, seemingly tense.

"Pest exterminator, heard you had a _'feral'_ problem." he jibed.

He noticeably stifled a chuckle, then furrowed his brows, quickly composing a trained scowl.  "Evading my questions is a sure fire way to get yourself ejected from the compound.  Are you from a local settlement?"

"Uh.." he pondered how much he should give away, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous manner.  "Sort of?  I ah...  I'm from Vault 111."

"You're a _Vault dweller..?_ " the Paladin's brows shot up in disbelief.  "Most people wouldn't admit to such a thing. Well, then.  I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel, and over _there_ ," he gestured behind him at another soldier, and at the scribe tending to his wounds.  "are Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys.

"We're on recon duty, but we're a man short.." he trailed off.

"Paladin Danse, i-if I may..?"  Scribe Haylen urged from behind him.

"Go ahead." He replied, before turning around to stare up a little to look Victor in the eyes.  He hadn't realized he'd been staring, just standing there ogling him like a horny schoolgirl, all the while keeping his guards raised.  "Christ, you act like you've never seen another person for _centuries_ , care to lower your fists?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL, I just thought I'd add in the reaction to bared weapons even after the fact; I loved scaring people shitless by running up and activating them while I had Flames drawn (in Skyrim, of course), but it seems Bethesda discontinued that type of interaction...


	2. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paladin Danse finds himself up at night wondering about our favorite Vault dweller; Victor stumbles into Danse, catching his fall, and.. his heart?

The arrival of the strange younger man troubled Danse.  Not necessarily because he was _concerned_ for his squad's safety around him.  Instead, his seemingly impulsive unarmed tact of either crushing the life out of his foes, or pelting them with cryogenic grenades and taking advantage of their haze to rip them limb from limb was stunning, to say the least.

He'd often observed Brent tugging lightly on the blinking metal collar about his neck, appearing to have taken a shining to it, as he usually stopped fussing as the red light glimmered against his skin, leaving it off center by a couple inches.   _What the hell are you thinking about him for?  He's proven to be_ feral, _minus the Ghoulish gnarled skin and ragged clothing._

He kicked away the bedroll from his bunk, earning himself a disgruntled sound from Knight Rhys as he shook the both bunks upon practically leaping off his bunk, his head whacking into the ladder and stirring the Knight a second time.

Before he knew where he was going, a tall figure stumbled right into him, knocking Danse from his feet, cursing.  The figure leaned forward and caught him suddenly by the forearm on his way down.

"Oh, fuck's sake!   _Fuck_ me..!" a bright blue light was flicked on from something around the figure's wrist.   _Great._ The Wastelander.

"Shit!   _Fuck_ , sorry, man!" he shouted, shining the strange device straight into Danse's eyes. _Christ, did he always swear so much?_ he thought, shielding his eyes with his free hand.  He'd never heard so much profanity, almost like it was his first language, in of itself.  "Damn, if my old drill sergeant knew how bow legged I've become, he'd roll over wherever he'd fallen when they dropped the.. never mind.  Forget I said that."

"Who _are_ you?  I've heard of drill sergeants before, but only from military files from _before_ the Great War.."

The younger man just looked down into his eyes, loneliness and something indiscernible in his face, then awkwardly cleared his throat and fled to a dark room.  A loud crash soon followed.

" _God_ DAMMIT!" He shouted, finally waking up Knight Rhys.

"Why is he still _here?!_   He's such a mewling klutz!"

* * *

_Victor awoke next to Ashen.  She was still sound asleep, ginger locks having fallen over her face, shielding her eyes from the warm sunlight.  He shifted onto his side to face her, reaching out a hand to stroke at her hair.  She whimpered, stretching catlike before arching into him, peeking out at him from behind her hair, smiling._

_"Well, look at you.. how'd a guy like me ever get so lucky?" Victor mused._

_"I'm wondering the same thing." Ashen whispered back, rolling out of bed to get dressed.  He did the same._

_"Ah, good morning, Mister Brent!  Your coffee, sir!" Codsworth called fondly as Victor padded out into the kitchen._

_"Thanks, Codsworth."_

_"Proud to serve, Sir!"_

_Ashen strode into the room, picking up a section of the paper, frowning at the contents.  "Much of the same.."_

_Shaun wailed in his crib.  Codsworth turned his optic lenses toward the couple, sighing._

_"Ahh.. sounds like someone made a stinky!  I shall attend to young Shaun." and off he whirred._

_The doorbell rang, Victor feeling a sudden, strange air of deja vu.  He stepped out to the front door, pulling it open cautiously._

_The Vault-Tec rep, the sirens, pulling on his Vault suit, the freezing cold.  All passed by in a blur.  Next thing he knew, he was pounding desperately at the window of his pod, watching his son being torn from his dead wife's arms._

Victor always had the same recurring nightmare.  A memory, he knew, but it haunted his attempts at sleep each night.

"ASHEN! NO!" He screamed, bolting upright, looking up, for once, to see Danse standing over his bedroll, eyes widening.  Victor sank back into the sleeping bag, slumping down to cradle his knees against his chest like a bawling child.  He looked up into the paladin's eyes, the tears finally streaking his cheeks.  He sobbed.  "It should have been _me.._ why couldn't _I_ have died protecting Shaun..  Protecting _her..._ "

They had been traveling together for a couple months, now, and _still_ Danse hadn't gotten used to his night terrors.  He seemed to always end up speechless, unsure of what to do.

"Who is this Ashen you're always referring to.?  As your mentor, my duty is to bond with you as your brother, but you haven't exactly let me in.." a look of genuine concern played across his features.

"Even _if_ I told you, you wouldn't believe me.  So, yeah.. fucking heads up." Victor didn't want to lose his closest human friend in this world of shit.  Danse held his ground, clearly not backing down.  He knelt down beside him, propping his cheek in his hand in a silent _I'm waiting._ "Damn you.. fucking _shit_ , man!"

"What the hell is _with_ these nightmares of yours?  You don't get much sleep, don't think _that's_ going unnoticed."

"Well.. fucking _hell_ , here goes, don't say I didn't warn you if I sound like a goddamned _chem_ head when I tell you." He sighed, scratching the back of his neck.  "I'm over two centuries old.  I ah.. I was in the Army, back before everything was blown to shit.  I guess that earned me some kind of special treatment, even though it _did_ backfire for us.. when the sirens started, our family fled into a Vault.  Vault 111.  They put us in cryogenic storage.  My wife, Ashen.. she died trying to protect our infant son, Shaun.  And they took off with him.   _Stole_ him."

He jumped in his skin as a hand reached out to stroke at his hair.  He shyly looked back, oddly warmed to the realization that yes, Danse was, in fact, petting him.  "That.. I-I..." he stumbled over his words.  "I'm never really good at these things."


	3. Cat on the Wall

Danse kept his rifle in hand, wary of the town they had just entered.  A pot-faced man in road leathers walked up to Knight Brent, tossing a cigarette off to the side.

"Hey, you. First time in Goodneighbor?" the man shouted, sizing him up.  "You can't go walking around without _insurance._ "

Brent scoffed.  "Unless its keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me insurance, I'm not interested." he quipped.  Danse lowered his rifle, slamming his head into his hand, sighing exasperatedly.

After a few more tense exchanges, a Ghoul in period dress strutted around the corner.  The Paladin felt his blood curdle in disgust.

"Whoa, whoa, time out.  A stranger walks through the gates for the first time, they're a guest.  You'd better _lay off_ that extortion crap, Finn." the Ghoul rasped.

"What d'you care?  He ain't one of us."

"What, no love for your mayor, Finn?  I _said_ , let 'em go.." he growled.

"You're soft, Hancock.  You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, _one_ day.. there'll be a new mayor." Finn snarled.

Hancock paused, a wicked grin briefly splitting his withered features.  "C'mere.. I wanna tell you a _secret._ " he beckoned the man forward.

Finn snorted, stepping in closer to the Ghoul.  Slowly, he drew out a knife from its holster, stabbing Finn twice in the heart, the man slumping to the cracked pavement with a strangled moan.

Knight Brent walked up to him, stooping down to pick through Finn's pockets.  Hancock cleared his throat, drawing their attention away from the body.

"Sorry 'bout that.. mayor's gotta make a point sometimes.  You alright, Brother?" he drawled, pulling a cigarette from his duster and strolling casually up to Danse.

"Watch it.  I'll be the first to end you when you go _feral._ " he spat, appalled as the Ghoul struck a match against his chest plate, lighting his cigarette.

"Your face.. something...   _Happen?_ " Brent interjected stupidly.  Danse shot him a stunned look.

"Like my _face?_ I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look.  I'm a Ghoul, you see?" he took a long drag from the cigarette, grinning back at him.  "Look, a lot of walking rad freaks like me, around here, so you might wanna keep those kind of questions on a _low_ burner, next time.  Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me?  Everyone's welcome."

Brent sighed through his nostrils, eyeing the smoke escaping the Ghoul's skeletal nose hungrily.  "Sounds like anarchy."

"The best _kind_ of anarchy.  Em _brace_ it, and one day you'll call this little slice of chaos home." Hancock signaled to a filthy woman in heavy metal armor.

As he tossed his cigarette onto Finn's corpse, turned, and walked off toward the State House, the woman walked up to them, looking them over like slabs of meat.  Danse shifted in his armor uncomfortably.

"A couple new _players_ in Goodneighbor.  Hello, little Pawns.. welcome to our fun and games." she mused, turning away to follow the mayor into the ruined building.

"I'd like to grab a drink with _her._ " Victor said.

"That's assuming I give you off-time.  You still have much to learn, soldier."

* * *

MacCready sulked in the back room of The Third Rail, nursing a bottle of whiskey.  He hated himself.  Here he was, drinking himself stupid, when his son lay dying thousands of miles away.   _Pathetic._

"Not surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready." a familiar voice said.

"Wondered how long it'd take your _blood_ hounds to track me down, Winlock.  Don't _tell_ me you're getting rusty.  Should we take this outside?"

Clunking sounds drowned out the rebuttal of his former commander, as the mercenary watched a man in Brotherhood power armor and a tall, shirtless man with red hair crash his private party.  The man leaned back against the wall, not bothering to mask his eavesdropping.

"I don't take orders from _you_ , Winlock.. not anymore.  In case you haven't noticed, I left the Gunners for good." MacCready scoffed.  "So why don't you take your _girl_ friend and get out of here, while you still can."

" _What?!_ Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this _shit!_ " Barnes snapped.

"Listen up, MacCready," Winlock spat.  MacCready tuned him out, warily eyeing the soldier in power armor.  He had thick black hair, stubble dusting his face, and a thick scar running over his right eye.

"You _finished?_ " he growled, still eyeing the soldier.

"Yeah.. _we're_ finished.  C'mon, Barnes."

"Look, pal.. if you're preaching about the Atom, or just looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy." MacCready paused.  "If you need a hired gun.. _then_ , maybe we can talk."

"I'm interested, _if_ you think you've got what it takes..." he replied coolly.

"You're _kidding_ , right?  I've been doing this since I was a kid!" he almost felt offended.  "I know my way around.  Besides.. that's how it _goes_ , when you run with the Gunners."

"You say it like I'm actually supposed to _know_ what you're talking about." the redhead scoffed.

"I don't think that's wise, Brent.  Safer to keep your guard up." the man in power armor warned, eyeing MacCready accusingly.

"Maybe it's _better_ if you don't.  I don't want the stink of Winlock and Barnes rubbing off on me and scaring off customers.  Now, what about _you?_   How do _I_ know I won't end up with a knife in my back?" he quipped, adjusting his hat.

"You don't.  That's part of the deal, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd throw in a little bit in MacCready's perspective, since he's actually one of my favorite characters. He may be a whiny little bitch, but I can't help the need for Creads. I love the little snot. ^-^


	4. Angel of Death

"Do you _have_ to take the road less traveled?" the mercenary whined, grudgingly clinging to Danse's armored back.

"One more complaint, _Civilian_ ," he spat, deliberately jolting him as he jumped off a boulder, leaving a small crater in his wake.  "And I'll shoot you, myself."

"Hey, channel that anger into something _productive_ , Danse Danse Revolution." Victor teased, although he was growing tired of his mentor's unabridged prejudice.  "We've got death wishes to fulfill."

* * *

Victor had led them underneath an old freeway.  He looked around, briefly caught in a flashback, watching cars he knew weren't there as they sped along during rush hour.  He sighed.

"Alright, Winlock and Barnes should be here.  Let's take them down." MacCready leapt off Paladin Danse's back, grunting as he landed hard on his ass with a resounding _thud._

"I'm not entirely sure about this.  For all we know, this could be an ambush." the Paladin muttered, raising his laser rifle and scanning the perimeter in his sights.

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." Victor teased, enjoying the confusion he received.  He let out a high laugh.  " _Hamlet_ , forgotten to time.  I _love_ the works of William Shakespeare."

"Does he _always_ do that?" MacCready asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Unfortunately, he does." Danse grumbled.

"Opening fire!" a gruff voice called from behind a barrier.  A salvo of lasers was traded for a rain of automatic weapons fire.

"Find 'em, _find 'em!_ " MacCready shouted, swinging his rifle around and peering through the scope.

Victor raised his fists, adrenaline and sadistic urges fueling his anger.  He sprinted into a small shack, head-butting a woman in grubby military fatigues.

"Knight Brent!  What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!  You'll get yourself killed, charging your opponents like that!" Paladin Danse yelled hoarsely.

"The lift!  He's under the lift!  Signal up top!  Get that Assaultron down here, NOW!"

 _Crack!_ A signal flare was launched up into the air, trailing vivid red smoke as Victor fled the shack and took the stairs two at a time.  He shouted at MacCready and Danse to follow, slamming his fist into the red button, growing very impatient as the lift creaked and groaned its way down.

"HURRY UP!  GET ON THE MOTHERFUCKING LIFT!" he screamed at them.  MacCready jumped up and latched onto Danse's suit, and Victor waited as patiently as his flustered brain would allow as the Paladin stomped his way onto the platform, and pushed another button with his metal finger.

"We should make you a custom harness for him, Danse.  Seeing as he always wants a piggyback ride."

"That's a thought I'd _seriously_ have to consider." Danse growled.

"Hostile sensor readings detected.  We have a situation." a feminine robotic voice rang out.  "Eliminating target."

"Vic, I seriously think you should consider using a weapon on this one." MacCready warned.

"Strange.  For once, I actually agree with this.. _insubordinate_ civilian." Danse mused.

"I ain't got _time_ to bleed." Victor sighed.  He burst out into manic giggling.  "Credit to _Predator._ "

"Vic, you're not serious!  She's got a fuc.. freaking _laser_ on her head!" MacCready protested, still clinging to Danse's suit.

Victor shrugged off his pack, rifling through it.  "Aha!  Yup!   _One Punch Man_ , I'll do ya proud!"

* * *

" _Fucking_ KILL!" Vic screamed, having already injected himself with several syringes of Fury and Overdrive.

" _Brent!_   Think about the consequences of your actions!" Danse warned.

Victor rushed the Assaultron, showering her with cryogenic grenades.  She froze over, her laser solidifying almost two feet in front of her.  He ripped the rusted exhaust pipe from a totaled bus, using it to bludgeon the already thawing robot into sparking pieces.

"Hasta la Vista, baby!" Victor shouted in a low, throaty, accented voice.   _Oh, god.. why_ now, _of all times?_ MacCready thought.  "Oh my fucking _god_ , I LOVE _Terminator!_ "

MacCready jumped off the soldier's back, tumbling into a barrier as he scrambled for a foothold.  He heard the telltale crack and hiss of power armor.   _Crap._   He whipped around, frantically waving for his boss's attention.

"Mac, what's got you doing the Funky Chicken?"

Barnes shrieked something unintelligible from the helmet speakers.  MacCready waited behind the barrier, trying to get Victor to take notice of the hulking armored Gunner.  Paladin Danse noticed first, aiming his laser rifle at Barnes, red blasts merely grazing off the armor.

"Knight Brent!  Grab anything useful from what caches you can find!" he roared.

Victor ran off, and MacCready heard rustling and crashing as he clumsily looted the crates his former comrades had scattered throughout the camp.  Footsteps came around the corner, and he turned to see another Gunner glowering down at him.  She had a bayonet welded to the barrel of her combat shotgun.   _Oh, no.._ MacCready thought, recognizing her as she scowled down at him.  Commander Isabelle Torres.

"You're _so_ dead, you filthy rat!" She was bent with rage as he considered making a run for the Paladin.  She lowered the weaponized barrel down at him, seemingly having read his thoughts.  He cowered, shielding his head with his hands.  "You piece of shit.."

She bashed the shotgun into his arm, stabbing him through his ragged duster as he recoiled, howling in anguish.  Everything sounded as if from far away, and he barely registered the snap of a grenade as Victor screamed at him to take cover.


	5. Ashes to Ashes

Danse's ears rang.  He had run to shield his Knight's hired gun from the grenade, hastily securing his helmet onto his head.  Everything was so bright, even through his visor.  He felt the young mercenary slump in his metal arms, out cold.  The Gunner that had ambushed him was nowhere to be seen.  He stood up, and, with some effort, hoisted the man onto his back, managing to hold his legs in place.

He stomped his way into the crumbling bus, placing him in the driver's seat.  His hearing starting to return to him, he cracked the seals of his suit, leaving it there to barricade the civilian from further harm, muttering under his breath.  He heard several explosions in areas surrounding him.  Danse ran out of the bus, stumbling over a body, looking around to locate the source of the commotion.

Turrets had been reduced to flaming piles of metal, and he saw Brent hunching over a dark skinned man in severely damaged power armor.  As he cautiously padded up to the Knight, he caught some of what he was saying.

"... you piece of shit. I know him well enough to put two and two together from what he told me. You fucking _made_ him do what he did.  You know it.  I'm their General because you goddamned forced him to kill Preston's best friend.  You don't _deserve_ my fucking mercy, you sniveling coward."

He spat in the man's eye, and stalked off toward the body of the mercenary's other former commander, wrenching a combat knife from the corpse's stiff hands.  He twirled it around his fingers, aiming for dramatic effect.  He reached for his own knee, shredding a strip of black denim from his jeans, and knelt down next to the man, stuffing the cloth into his mouth like a gag.

Danse heard someone walking up behind them, whirling around to aim his rifle.  MacCready held up his hands in a placating gesture.  Victor turned, and closed the distance between them, shoving the knife's grip into his hands.

"Take your revenge.  Don't forget, _they_ did this to you.  Make.  Him.  Pay." he gave them both a wicked grin.

MacCready tested the sharpness on his thumb, lightly pressing the blade against the skin.  "Now you're speaking my language.." he breathed.

* * *

It had been a little over a week since MacCready had led them to his old camp.  A short amount of time, yet much had changed.  Victor noticed the subtle changes in Danse when around the merc, although he still complained about having the harness welded to his power armor.  He could almost forget he had come from another time, another _world_ , it seemed.  He liked to think Ashen would be proud of him, though it still pained him that he'd never hear her answer.

"Hey, Vic!  Look who came to spoil the party!" MacCready called.  He looked over his shoulder, and grinned at the Ghoul.  "Hancock!  How's the _coolest_ Ghoul in Goodneighbor?"

"MacCready, I hope you're not giving our favorite scrapper any trouble, now." Hancock drawled.  He looked at Victor, then grinned at the Paladin standing beside him.  "I see Crew Cut here's really taken a shining to ya, hasn't he?"

Danse grunted, crossing his arms over his chest like a pouting child.  Victor laughed, tussling his black hair.

* * *

Victor gasped, terrorized by another nightmare, bolting upright in his sleeping bag, and suddenly remembered where he was.  They had settled in for the night at his old neighborhood in Sanctuary, in his ruined house.  Danse startled awake, sprawled across a lavish red leather couch with black oak framing.  He sat up, stretching, and padded over to sit next to him.

"Bad dream?" he asked.  Victor nodded mutely.  He reached out a hand, gently squeezing his shoulder.  "Are you.. are you alright?"

Dogmeat bounded into the room and nuzzled and squirmed his way into his sleeping bag, knocking the Paladin onto Victor in his wake, and the two men just sat there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes.

Unbidden, Victor found his gaze trailing down from his commander's eyes to his lips.  Apparently, he wasn't the only one to partake of that thought, and his heart thudded faster.  Danse was leaning in, tilting his head slightly.  All Victor could do was question what the fuck was happening as his eyes slipped to half mast, and was rewarded by the gentle caress of soft lips on his.

In spite of himself, he couldn't move, even if he'd wanted to, as Danse efficiently pinned him back against the bedroll next to the dog, and busied himself in peppering gentle kisses down his muscular frame.

An unwelcome visitor made his cocky presence known from the doorway.   MacCready stood there, snickering as he strutted into the house.

" _Great.._ the one chance I'll probably ever have to try dirty Dansing." Victor breathed, looking wryly up into the paladin's eyes.

"Hoping I'm not disturbing anything?  But, seriously, we're wasting time when both of you should be sleeping." the young sniper shot Danse a goofy smirk.  "Don't worry, I won't tell Maxson you've cheated on him, no need to get your _panties_ in a twist."

"Oh, fuck off, Creads!  I can't believe you watched us, you sick fucking _perv!_ "

MacCready threw up his hands, mocking a prissy shriek.  " _Hey_ , no worries.  Your secret's safe with me.  After all, _I_ owe _you_ double, for what you did for Duncan."

* * *

Danse awoke not too far away from Knight Brent.  He briefly stood up, looked the leviathan down.  He'd have to be in his.. early twenties?  Before his world ended.  The Paladin sat down quietly and studied his face. Victor.. the Knight.. also had a battle scar, much the same as his own.  His left eye seemed to have a pigmentation issue, as a large, pale blotch spanned from his top eyelid to just near his cheek.

He found himself sifting his fingers through Victor's ginger-rooted strawberry color locks.  A few strands always seemed to end up on the man's face, and he gently tucked them behind Victor's ear.  He jumped a little when he felt the Knight lean his head further back into his hand, like a docile animal.

"Who _are_ you..?" He wondered more to himself than to Brent.  This, it seemed, finally snapped him out of his sleep, only..  "You're didn't scream..?  Or were you feigning sleep?"

"Okay, okay, lovebirds.. this ain't senior prom night at Makeout Pointe." a raspy voice drawled from the shadows.  Their reaction time was short-lived, as they heard MacCready shrieking from his sniper's nest.

"DEATHCLAW!  FUCKING DEATHCLAW!  IT'S HERE, OVER HERE!"

"Jesus FUCK _ing_ GOD _damned_ _Chr_ IST!  I'm writing THIS one down as when SHIT hit the _mother_ FUCKING FAN!" Victor bolted upright, cursing and shouting through gritted teeth, annunciating meditatively, raising his fists like a territorial animal.

"You're _seriously_ considering punching a Deathclaw to death?  I've lost Cutler, I don't want to-" Danse was silenced by a soft finger being pressed to his lips.  He looked up into Victor's eyes, feeling his face turning redder than a tato.

"These.." the cocky man popped one pectoral, followed by he other.  "You'll get later, Danse Danse Revolution."

"Let's go kick some ass.." Hancock rasped.


	6. Carry On, My Wayward Son

When they first set out on a plan on how to deal with the lumbering threat, it seemed autonomous, a near normal ideal of their lives.

But they were wrong, this time.

When Victor managed to corner it, after giving the great beast quite the beating, it leaned back onto its massive haunches, uttering three short howls.  Within seconds, multiple responses were heard.

They were surrounded.

"Clever girl.." Victor murmured, bursting into laughter and muttering a quote source.  He had to put an end to his horrible knack of making crude Pre-War references in the most dangerous of situations, then cackling giddily in an almost psychotic manner.

"BRENT!  WATCH OUT!" Paladin Danse bellowed.  Too late.  Victor took a nasty blow to his torso, and he heard cracking.  "Damnit!  He's broken multiple ribs!  Somebody do SOMETHING, _damn_ you!"

Faintly, shallowly, he heard his Knight rasp out into a song.   _No.. not now, not like this.._

" _Carry on, my Wayward Son..  
For the–_ " he gasped for air, coughing up blood.  " _there'll be peace.. when you are done..._ "

Danse abandoned all thought and raced in toward his Knight, spitting out curses he'd never thought existed in primal fury at the two beasts fighting over the now incapacitated Victor Brent.

In the distance, he heard his personal suit of power armor whirring to life, and heard MacCready thundering somewhat gracelessly in their direction, not even bothering to sensor himself as he quickly got the hang of the mechanisms and bashed in the face of the larger, alpha Deathclaw, letting out a series of profanities as he began smashing into it repeatedly until the power armor's fist was smeared with much more brain than he could bear to look at.

Danse turned over to one side and dry retched.  He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and looked back down at Victor, and to his horror the younger man's face was far too pale to be good.  He tried to sit the man upright, but it was like trying to lift a fully grown Brahmin.

"He's losing too much blood!" He shouted hoarsely. " _Damnit!_   We should've brought Curie!"

"We're not far from Sanctuary, actually!  Could drag his ass there, if we work together!" Hancock shouted coarsely.  Then his face split into the most horribly timed shit-eating grin he could muster.  "That means you'll be working with a filthy Ghoul, _Crew Cut.._ "

"Hey, fu.. _buzz_ off him, Hancock!  He could lose his lov-" MacCready was brutally cut off with a growled order to get out of his suit.  "Shii _it.._ I'm such a _turd!_ " he scolded himself, slinking out of the suit.

Danse practically flung himself into his suit.  He turned, and to his satisfaction, it appeared as though the other Deathclaw had fled in the loss of its Alpha.  He bent over and gingerly cradled his wounded Knight in his armored hands, much like one would an injured animal.

He slumped a little into him, allowing himself to gently press his forehead against Brent's.  He heard a small cough, followed by a sharp intake of breath.  "... Danse.?"

"Oh, mon _dieu!_   Monsieur Danse, you _must_ be careful!  You could push one of his ribs into his heart!" Curie crooned in her thick French accent.  She ran up to take a closer look at Victor.  He dazedly recalled a period of time in which she had been a bubbly Nurse Handy.  And now, well.. he hated to admit she made him jealous of the special bond she shared with Victor.

"Oh, no!  But I was told it was a very _large_ Deathclaw, however.." she prodded one of his bruises thoughtfully.  "I am sure my new breakthrough in the healing power of Stimpaks may help him, _very_ much." she was such a terrible liar.

"Hurts like a goddamned fucking _bitch_!" Victor groaned in discomfort, before fainting.  His Raider's mouth never ceased to amaze him.

"Watch your _tongue_ , Monsieur Victor! How will you ever adapt to raising this Shaun that Codsworth speaks so _fondly_ of?" She swooned, compassion and worry twisting her lip.  Danse, although not overly fond of synths, _did_ find her scolding to be oddly amusing.

* * *

_... ................ ..........................  Urrgh... Where.. where am I?_

_...............  I can't.. fading out._


	7. Bring Me To Life

Paladin Danse paced back and forth around the ruined truck stop.  He could hear MacCready arguing with Hancock and Curie over her assessment of Victor's condition.

"I don't _care_ if he's been reckless!  What's it _matter_ if he's been strung out on Fury and Overdrive, his life depends on you!" MacCready pleaded.  "After _all_ he's done for _you_ , for _all of us_ , how could you suggest that?!"

" _He's_ the reason you have that rockin' body, Sister.  He'd do the same for ol' _Crew_ Cut out there, and I'm sure _he'd_ sacrifice you to his floating fortress of _tin_ cans if you fail him." Hancock said.

Danse couldn't take it any more.  He stormed into the old office room they had Victor in, and glared daggers at Curie.

"You had _better_ help him out, whatever it takes." he snarled.  "I won't be responsible for his death."

"I _do_ know of one person.  Well.. she's a friend of Monsieur Victor's.  Mama Murphy, she has this gift, the Sight.  She may come off to some as a.. how you say?   _Witch_ doctor?"

* * *

 _Victor felt as if he was flying.  He opened his eyes, blinked._ Where _am_ I? _he thought, looking around._

_He was standing in the middle of a clearing at the edge of a rain forest, overgrown, giant plants all around him.  He reached out a hand, brushing it against a huge blade of grass.  He heard a falcon cry out.  Victor looked up, and saw that the bird, too, was monstrous in size.  He ran for the thick, humid brush._

_He heard another animal screeching, and scaled the nearest tree, slipping a little and nearly losing his foothold.  He crawled on his stomach through a large tunnel in a high bough.  He would figure out where he was, later.  But now, he just needed to hide._

* * *

"Oh, no, _kid.._ what happened to him?  Was it a Deathclaw?" the old woman eyed the comatose Knight in the paladin's metal arms with grief.  "I _didn't want_ it to be true.."

Danse gently laid him down before her, pushing down the tears.  "Is there anything you can do to help him?"

"Oh, that _will_ be tricky.  He's in the Inbetween." she rasped.  "Ain't _nobody_ can touch him, if they can't get in there _with_ him."

"How would I do that, exactly?"

* * *

Danse watched Mama Murphy warily as she took her hit of Jet.  Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she reached forward and touched a hand to Victor's right temple.  She beckoned him forward, and he complied.  As she placed her other hand on his left temple, his surroundings changed completely.

* * *

 _"_ _What the.. where_ am _I?" Danse wondered._

 _"You're where he is, now.  You_ must _find him. Make it your only purpose, kid.  Find Victor, bring him back to us." Mama Murphy's voice called from all around him._

_He looked around.  Tall plants and monstrous trees surrounded him on all sides.  He closed his eyes, sighed through his nostrils, and picked his way into the wild._

_He wandered aimlessly for what felt like an hour, before he heard it._

_"Please.. I don't know where I am." a familiar voice whispered on the wind._

_"VICTOR!" Danse felt a surge of hope.  He heard rustling up somewhere above him.  A skidding sound, and he looked up, mouth agape at what he saw.  Victor Brent was falling from the treetops.  "Victor, I've got you!"_

Thwack!  _Victor landed on top of him, his weight staggering him as he attempted to catch him._

_"Mama Murphy, can you still hear me?  I found him, I believe he's okay!"_

_"Wait.. she brought you here?  Where is she.?  Why can't we see her?!" he looked around wildly._

_"It's not that simple, kid.. oh, I'm so sorry!  You're in a coma, you poor, sweet thing.." the old woman crooned.  "I think I can bring back your friend, here, but.. we would still have to wake you up."_

_"No!  I_ can't _wake up without him!  You have to bring him with me!" Danse shouted._ Why?  Why'd he have to hurt himself so badly?  Why couldn't he wake up?! _He was losing his mind. He was running out of time..._

* * *

Bright light.. blinding blue light...  What were they saying..?


	8. Norwegian Wood

"Danse.. wake up...   _Please.?_   Just open your eyes, man..!" he _knew_ that voice.

Danse groaned, forcing his eyes open.  He blinked, waiting for everything to come into focus.  "Victor.?"

His Knight nodded.  He looked around.  He was back in Sanctuary, in the run down Brent residence.  "You were out for six days, Paladin.  I thought I'd _never_ fucking see your eyes, again."

* * *

Danse wanted to be seen as more than just an authoritative voice.  He found himself absently playing with his Relic's hair, savoring the volume and softness as the velvet, reddish strands fell through his fingers.

He knew this feeling his Knight warmed him with could prove tactically irresponsible, and he liked it, but.. he was helplessly enamored with his subordinate, and it scared the hell out of him; he knew this infatuation of theirs was something often earning judgement in the Brotherhood.

"Danse?" Victor murmured, sheepishly looking his mentor in the eye.  Danse grunted in response.  "Why _do_ you play with my hair?"

"I.. I'm not sure." Danse was deliberately distracted by the sound of pained but determined flexing.  His eyes trailed down Victor's features, and he realized that he'd been flaunting his pectoral muscles in an attempt at playful seduction.  "How are you that fit, even though its _clear_ you have the motor skills of a child?  What exactly did that Vault _do_ to you?"

Victor tugged his metal collar into its preferred position, the red blinking light outlining his muscle tone a little.  "I.. was put into cryogenic stasis, like I told you.  Someone broke in, and tore my family away from me, and then I heard the computer say something about the sequence being reinitalized.  When I woke up for good, I vaguely remember hearing the computer warning about a malfunction in the Vault's life support system.  I think the error must've caused a minute part of my brain to get damaged.  And this collar?  Whoever released me must've had time while I was coming to to lock it on me, but.. they never really came looking for me, I guess."

"I'm sure Ingram could have that thing removed, I'll talk t–"

He was interrupted with Victor's sudden overpowering urge to get him out of his uniform.  "Jumpsuit.  Lose it.  I _need_ you."

"Christ, Brent!  You're pushing it!  I'm not.." he was once again distracted by the pectoral puppet show.  "On second thought, however.."

" _Yess..!_ " Victor hissed, thrusting a fist.  The Paladin lost all his wits, just pinned him up against the broken walls of the Knight's home and swirled his tongue around one of his nipples, then bit down on the clavicle, earning him an ecstatic yelp from his beloved Knight, followed by the tearing of the fabric of his uniform.

"You're receiving some serious punishment.. I'm afraid you've been caught red handed."

"Oh god, Revolution, just fucking take my _soul_ , please!" at this Danse completely lost it, seizing Victor's ear in his teeth, tonguing the contours, when he felt it.

" _Ahh.!_ What the.. you're..?" it dawned on him that his groin had been seized up into Victor's soft hands, and he was pleasuring Danse.

It felt amazing, yet very strange.  The paladin yearned to pleasure his beloved Knight back.  He leaned forward, and kissed Victor with fervor.  In kind, he began pumping Danse, and soon he felt a knot form in his gut.

"Brent, I.. I'm going to...   _Guhh..!_ " his piece twitched dangerously in Victor's hand.  Too late.  He spurted out over his Knight's hand, and instead of wiping it off, Victor licked his fingers, smacking his chops like a hungry animal.

"Hey, you just gotta talk dirty to it.. shit, how long you been holding _that_ in?" he leered.

"You _beast_ , you're going to get it!" Danse growled, panting.  He seized his Knight around the waist, greedily shoving him back onto the mattress, practically ripping off Victor's jeans with a wild snarl, grinding his exposed groin against his briefs, earning himself a rough groan from the Knight.

"Jeebus, fuck, Revolution!  At least let me take 'em off, wouldja?" Brent chided.  He tugged off his boxers slowly, agonizingly slowly, letting off a series of frustrated grunts.

"Aww, shucks.. seems I didn't get an invitation to the party.  Who would know _Crew_ Cut would be into scrappers?" Danse didn't need to know whose intrusion it'd been, he whipped around to glare daggers into the Ghoul's very soul.

Victor struggled under his weight.  "... Fuck. John, breath _one_ word of this to anyone, and I _swear_ , I'll.."

"Hey, you protected my stash, Vic.  Don't you remember that?  I do.  You seriously think I'm _that_ petty?"

"Brent.. uh.. y-you two..?" Danse stammered helplessly.

"That's his way of making a promise.. I think.  His chem deals go on to this day, thanks to me."

"Nah, I'm afraid this freak show is more just friends.. not that I'm immune to impure thoughts, especially _now_ , come to think of it..." the Ghoul licked his cracked lips suggestively.

"I believe I've heard enough.  Keep away from me, you filthy Ghoul." he growled, earning himself a knee to his crotch.


	9. Lucy in the Sky of Diamonds

_MacCready walked out into the Wastes, sunset a vibrant reddish orange, clouds stained in pink and yellow hues.  A familiar voice called out his name.  The young merc answered a bit slowly, feeling strangely at ease for the first time since he had lost Lucy._

_A tall man with swept back strawberry hair walked up to him, held out his hand.  "You coming?"_

_"Vic?  Yeah!" MacCready cleared his throat awkwardly.  "Yeah.. I'll come."_

_Victor lead him down the streets of Boston with an unusual grace.  He laughed, and so did he.  The redhead broke out into a run, and MacCready struggled to keep up.  He looked around.  Dogmeat was bounding alongside them, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.  He threw him a furry grin, barking._

_"Where're we going, Boss?" he asked, gripping his hat with his free hand as the wind whipped their faces._

_Victor's response was cut short when he finally stumbled, falling on top of him.  He didn't try to say anything else, just stared down at the merc's lips, eliciting a fluttering feeling in his stomach.  He stared up into the redhead's eyes, and reached out a hand to pull him down to kiss him._

MacCready opened his eyes, dazed and confused.  He could still feel Victor's lips on his, furrowing his brows as he brushed his fingers over his mouth.   _What the heck is_ wrong _with me?_ he wondered.

He sat up on the therapy chair Victor had set aside for him.  He always slept at Red Rocket, mostly out of respect for the dead, the dead being Victor's wife and their neighbors.  It just didn't feel right to invade his privacy like that.

* * *

 "Hey, Blue!  Come and get it!" Piper yelled.  He raised his chin slightly, inhaling deeply through his nose.   _Hmm.._ he thought.   _Deathclaw eggs, hint of mutfruit.  Creads'll love that, no doubt._  He parted his lips to better detect what aromas were carried on the wind, sniffing and lightly huffing like a lion on the savanna.

"Soldier," Danse greeted him curtly, acknowledging him with a nod of his head.

"Hey, Revolution." he smiled.

"What were you doing, just then?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Tracking.  'S fun.  You should try it." He sighed.  "Toured Africa once.  The Army had us camped out in the Sahara.  Saw a lion do it, picked up the habit."

Someone clapped a hand on Victor's back.  He whipped his head back.  MacCready stood beside him grinning.  "He could probably smell your junk.  Read it in a book once."

Victor groaned.  MacCready's shit-eating grin just grew wider.  Before he could think of a smart ass remark to throw back at him, a faint signal was caught on his Pip-Boy.

"Monsieur Victor, aren't you hungry?  Your food is growing cold, come eat." Curie called from the house across the street.

"The fuck?  Hold on, I'm coming!" he shouted back, breaking into a jog.  He flopped down on his back, flipping himself up into a sitting position as Piper passed his plate to him.

He dug in, wolfing it down ravenously as he flipped through his Pip-Boy.  He tuned into the faint signal, flicking the volume dial as high as it could go as he strained to listen.

 _"What if there was a place with all the zip of Nuka Cola?"_ a string of voices sang out merrily.

"What is that garbage?  Sounds like somethin' you'd hear in me worst childhood nightmares.." Cait blurted out.

 _Nuka World..?_ Victor listened to the broadcast, vaguely remembering him and Ashen planning on taking Shaun for his fourth birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, Creads' dream sequence is a tribute to Lucy in the Sky of Diamonds, by The Beatles. Look up the lyrics; I'll admit, I did a bit of paraphrasing. Hope you liked it.


	10. Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite

The broadcast finished, detailing the location of the old amusement park.  They sat and finished their meals in thoughtful silence.  Victor debated whether or not he should suggest they check it out.

"Blue, do you think it'd be safe?  You're from that time, did it have good reviews?" Piper asked innocently.

"Ashen and I wanted to take Shaun there when he turned four.  Fuck it, yeah!" he shouted enthusiastically.  "Lets go!"

* * *

"All this walking's wearin' me out.." Cait moaned.  A series of grumblings voiced their agreement.

"Thirsty, anyone?" Codsworth chimed in hopefully.  Everyone gathered around him to take bottles of purified water.  "Another batch is already in the works."

MacCready folded his arms behind his head, yawning.  Danse mumbled something about crushing him up against a boulder, and a few people snickered.

"Shh.. you hear that?" Cait stopped in her tracks.  Everybody stopped to listen, and Victor heard gunfire ahead in the distance.  "Sounds like someone's gettin' theirs.."

Victor signaled to keep going, and took pointe, Danse stomping along next to them, MacCready balancing his sniper rifle over the edge of his harness, peering through the scope as he was carried.  The gunfire drew nearer as they approached a broken fence, filing into a line as they waited turns to duck under the gap in the wire.

A sign to Victor's right proclaimed:   **Nuka World Transit Center**.  They had made it.

"Okay, I'm going ahead to scout the perimeter.  Stay.  Put." Victor commanded.  He turned to Dogmeat, clicking his tongue.

* * *

"It's quiet out here.. too quiet." MacCready said, giggling.  "Oh man... I always wanted to say that!"

"Monsieur Victor!" Curie called out.

Silence.

"Blue?"

Nada.  Zip.  Zilch.

"I'll investigate.  No doubt, the kid's got me worried.  Any cop'll tell ya, it shouldn't take this long to look around." Nick volunteered.

"Right behind ya." Piper breathed.

"Is it _normal_ for the hairs on the back of my neck to be standing straight up, like this..?" MacCready fretted, jumping up out of the harness, landing hard on his back with an _oof_.

He fell into step behind the reporter and the old Synth, wondering silently what was taking Victor so long.  He heard light footsteps crunching through the garbage and rubble around the side of a parking garage.  Tightening his grip on his rifle, he took a deep breath and rounded the corner.

"Vic?" MacCready called.

The redhead stepped out from the shadows, pressing his index finger to his lips.  " _Shh.._ "

"...  What's the matter?" he asked.  Victor pointed up at the garage's roof.

"Something tells me we'd better skedaddle, and quick." Nick warned, fluorescent amber eyes flicking to Victor.

Stampeding followed them as they pushed through the doors of the small building ahead of them.

* * *

A man was slumped against a pile of trash a few feet in front of the gang as they filed into the transit center.  He seemed to be nursing an internal wound of some sort, although there was no blood.

Hancock sighed, holding his hands out in front of his face.  He didn't _think_ he was high..  he adjusted his pack, fingering the strap over his shoulder, unzipped it, and searched through his stash of chems.

"Got a ride of choice?" he asked Curie, still fumbling through the pack.  "I'm a Mentats Ghoul, myself.  Makes me feel intellectual."

"The use of recreational chems can prove addicting.  I shall observe its effect on you." she replied.

"Shit..  They're gonna die." all eyes were drawn to the man cowering before them.

Victor stepped forward, concern painted on his face.  "You look like hell.." he breathed.

"You're telling me.  My family, we came across a caravan a couple months ago.  They traded with us, and told us about this settlement.  At Nuka World.  So we came here, just to find out they were Raiders the whole time.. just stringing us along.  I managed to escape, held them off a while." the man winced.  "But my wife, and my boy.. they're still with 'em.

"Please, you've gotta help them.." he pleaded.

"Shit.. I ah...  I have a few Stimpaks.  Let me help you, first." Victor offered, unslinging his pack from his shoulder.

The man shook his head vehemently.  "No, no.. I'm fine.  Save it for my wife, and my son, for Lisa and Cody" he protested, gripping his wound.

"Hey, wait.. something 'bout this don't add up." Hancock rasped, eyeing him.  "Now, I might be tripping, but I don't see the blood."

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances.  Victor took another step towards the man.

"Why the _fuck_ would you refuse help?!" he demanded.  "Hancock's right.  If you'd really been shot, _why's_ there no blood?"

His eyes widened.  He got up slowly, raising his hands.  "Alright, you got me.  I ain't hurt.  The Raiders put me up to this, luring innocent people in, killing them for fun.  I just.. couldn't do it, no more."

"Sounds like typical Raiders, to me."

Oh, but he was _so_ wrong.

* * *

"Hey, all my favorite un _desirables_ out there.. it seems we have some fresh meat to run the Gauntlet." a gruff voice called over the loudspeakers as the group got out of the train car.  The voice cackled.

"Blue, do you think.. maybe that guy from the transit center was right..?" Piper wondered, looking around worriedly.

Cait scoffed.  "This place is a shitehole."

Victor whistled through his fingers, demanding everyone's attention.  "Look, whatever this is, we're in this together.  Sound off like you've got a pair!" he smothered a laugh.  "Fucking _Full Metal Jacket.._ "

Collective sighs ensued his reference.  MacCready looked around from his harness.

"Cleaning robot take a day off, or something?"

* * *

They were nearly through the Gauntlet, and so far the horrors endured had been relatively liveable.  They shuffled through a narrow hallway, Victor taking pointe and disarming any traps he saw.  He stopped in front of a doorway leading to what looked like some sort of lab.  He signaled for the crowd to file in ahead of him, entering the room last, and they all jumped in their skin as the door slammed behind him, and the air became toxic.

Victor coughed, struggling for oxygen.  He desperately scrabbled at a yellow wheel as he attempted to dispel the gas.  "SHIT.."

"Let me know if you want me to take a look at that terminal, over there.  Always had a way with machines." Nick volunteered, pointing a skeletal metal finger at the screen in another room.  Wheezing, he nodded in approval.  The old Synth picked the locked door, stepped in, and began tapping away at the keyboard.

A door opened around the corner, and they fought their way through the hissing, writhing mass of Radroaches, stumbling through the door.

"Yes, _breathe_ that fresh air!" Red Eye mocked them over the intercoms, gasping loudly.  "Doesn't matter what you do.. the Gauntlet gets 'em _all_ , in the end."

* * *

The Raider's power armor suit crumpled to the floor, as he let out his last, dying breath.  The audience gasped, shocked at what had just occurred.

"Looks like we got us a new Overboss." the one-eyed Raider behind the microphone chuckled.  The audience booed, shouting angrily.  "Hey, he sur _vived_ the Gauntlet, and him and his crew were strong enough to take down Colter.  Just.. trust me, on this.  I think I know what I'm doin'."

The crowd hesitated, then cheered, climbing up on the fences and gripping it, shaking it back and forth.

"You'd better _know_ what you're doing, Gage." a woman in a bladed metal helmet warned.

"Alright, alright.. get outta here, I'll show the Boss around." Gage snarled.  He watched the strange Raiders leave the stadium, then turned to Victor.  "What'd I tell ya?  Worked like a charm."

MacCready jumped out of his harness, stepping between Victor and the Raider protectively.

"Death by squirt gun.." Victor scoffed.  "I'd _love_ to see the message on his tombstone."

"Yeah...  Look, I know this is coming at ya fast, and you don't know what's goin' on, but.. trust me, it'll all be worth it." he paused, looking Victor over.  "Looks like we've got a vacancy in the Overboss department, and guess what?  You got the job." Gage said.   _Jeez,_ he _knows how to drop the bomb.._ MacCready thought.

They argued briefly, and the young mercenary heard Danse stomp up to guard Victor's other flank.  He watched the Raider stalk off, and found himself trying to picture Victor as an amusement park Raider.

"Vic?" he started.  The redhead glanced at him questioningly.  "You're really sure you want to lead a bunch of Raiders..?  Not that I blame you."

"Hey, fuck it.  Could be fun." Victor laughed.  "Since when are _you_ such a puss?"

MacCready slugged him in the shoulder, feeling his face redden as he blushed.  "Fu.. _screw_ you!"


	11. Heathens

MacCready looked around from his harness as they walked out into the night air.  He noticed a strange looking robot shaped like a bottle, narrowing his eyes.

"Uhh.. Vic?" MacCready started uneasily, jumping down from the harness on Danse's power armor.  Victor grunted in response.  "What _is_ that.?"

The robot clunked around towards them, almost waddling.  "Why hello, there, young fellas and ladies!  Welcome to Nuka World, I'm N.I.R.A., your Nuka World Informaton Related Assistant!"

Victor cleared his throat awkwardly.  "I haven't been a young fella in a long time."

N.I.R.A. gave a tinny laugh.  "The way we see it, that anyone who walks through those gates is a child at heart.  While you're here, feel free to ask any questions you have!"

MacCready tuned her out, finding himself entranced by Victor's rippling shoulders.  His every movement was disctracting, and the young mercenary's eyes followed the contours of his back, around his waistline, to the bulk of his crotch.  MacCready cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"Creads?  Hello..?" Victor waved his hand in his face.  "Wake _up_ , damnit!"

"Wha..?  Oh, geez, sorry.  Is everything alright?" MacCready realized he'd been ogling his boss like a horny girl.  He felt his cheeks reddening.

Victor smirked down at him, laughing.  "You were checking me out, weren't you?" he flexed his biceps, drawing MacCready's eyes again.  "Because who wouldn't..?"

* * *

That night, after everyone had picked where to drop their bedrolls, and they were all fast asleep, MacCready sat on the lift for the little restaurant they had holed up in, sulking and drawing on a cigarette.

He turned and looked over his shoulder at Victor, who was pretending to be asleep while he played a game on his Pip-Boy.  Danse lay a few feet away, seemingly not yet accustomed to sleeping with him.  MacCready caught the redhead's eye, quickly looking down and away nervously.

He heard careful footsteps approaching him, and turned.   _Smooth move, ex lax.._ he thought bitterly.

"Trouble sleeping?" Victor murmured in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.  "Couldn't help.. noticing your staring problem, today."

MacCready tried to summon an excuse, but none would come.  He looked helplessly into Victor's eyes, unsure of what to do.  Victor sighed, glancing down at his lips almost longingly.  He leaned in, placing a hand on the merc's jaw, tilting his head to one side gently, and softly pressed his lips to MacCready's, inciting a surprised yelp.

MacCready felt his groin stiffening, and he returned the kiss in desperation, sexual frustration mounting.  Victor groaned greedily, pinning him down against the rough mat lining the lift's floor.  MacCready grunted, struggling under the redhead's weight as he fumbled the zipper on his jeans.  He slipped his tongue in, tugging the zipper down roughly.

"Duster." Victor growled.  "Take it off."

He sat up to allow MacCready to strip down.  He shrugged off his jacket, and pulled down his pants, tossing them to the side and lifting his shirt up over his head.  Victor pinned him down again, grinding against him with fervor.  MacCready gasped for air, his member hardening more.

"V-Vic.. _oh_ , god.. Vic d _on't_ stop..!" he moaned into his chest, winding his fingers through his strawberry locks.

"Creads.. _ahh!_ " Victor gasped in between thrusts.  "You're.. _fuck!_   My _god_ damned drug.!"

"What.. what're you doing.. with _him.?_ " Danse rumbled from behind them.

"Ah.. shit.  How long have you been watching us?" Victor asked.  MacCready wriggled out from under him, searching frantically for his clothes.  "I-I... damnit.  What the fuck is _wrong_ with me..?!"

"I mean.. I can't say I can blame you.  I still haven't slept with you, and...  He has grown on me, as well." the Paladin confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.  "You can only carry someone on your back for so long before you wonder."

"Wait.. what the _hell?_  You're a Brotherhood soldier!" MacCready protested.  "I thought you people hated Wastelanders like me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry! I know, it's been a while. And for anyone who's wondering why the hell our buddy Vic is being such a horn dog.. yes, okay? My OC's get all the poontayne.. I can't help it. T^T  
> I fucking love MacCready. I can't stand not being in gay relationships with the following male companions: Hancock, MacCready, Paladin Danse, and Porter Gage.  
> They're just so damn sexy. XD


	12. Shut Up and Love Me

Soren watched the large group of travelers from his hideaway.  He had set up specially designed surveillance cameras all over the decrepit old amusement park.

Quill bleeped happily beside him as they spied on their new Overboss.  Soren didn't care if Gage knew what he was up to.  That pussy willow could choke on a huge one.  All he knew was Colter's replacement had better be worth it.

"What d'you think, big guy?" the young Raider asked the tri-hybridized Assaultron as it hovered noisily at his side.  He tried his best to ignore the creepy girlish giggling assaulting his ears from somewhere within the mansion.  He believed the spirit's name was Lucy; the narrated tour of the Grandchester Mystery Mansion had told stories of a demented little girl named Lucy who had gruesomely murdered her parents in the room down the hall from where Soren had his gear set up.  He shook it off, patting Quill shakily on his Protectron arm.  He received an enthusiastic clicking in reply.

"Hmm.. I guess we won't know for sure until we meet him in person.  Question is.. how do we get to him and his little crew?"

* * *

MacCready peered down his scope uneasily as he and Paladin Danse waited for Victor and the others to get back from meeting the different Raider gang's leaders.

The awkward silence was cut short when the merc spotted a man in an Operators chest piece, Disciples pants, and a tracker collar approaching Fizztop Grille, followed by a scrappy looking Assaultron with a Protectron arm and a Mr. Handy thruster.

"Uh, Danse?  C'mere." he called, pointing with the barrel of his rifle.  "What should we make of that.?"

"I.. I'm not entirely sure.  The robot appears to be a salvage job of some sort, and I could be wrong, but.. that man's wearing armor associated with two different gangs."

MacCready peered down his rifle's scope, again.  The strange Raider appeared to be in his early twenties, maybe even younger.  The scrappy robot clung closely to his flank, which probably meant that they had a tight knit bond of some sort.  They disappeared from his sights as he opened the door to the ground level of the restaurant, and then he heard footsteps and mechanized sputtering approaching the doorway.

Paladin Danse snatched his laser rifle from the desk and aimed it at the pair as they entered, eyes narrowing accusingly.

"Hey, relax.  I just wanted to meet the boss."

* * *

Soren waited as patiently as much as the adrenaline rush his pointedly unwelcome presence gave him could, and he was getting tired of the two men's unceasing interrogations.  Wasteland scourge, this; rabid animal, that.. seriously, how much more bitching could he _stand_ before he opted to blowing his own brains out?!

"Creads, Revolution?  Hey, you're still he.." the Overboss finally came bursting through the door with the rest of his little gang, took two steps before noticing Soren.  "Who.. the _fuck_.. is this asshole?"

"Soren Abby, triple agent for the Pack." he shouted over the murmuring.  "Yeah, they may be savages, but that doesn't mean they can't problem solve.  Long story."

"Shit, didn't think Raiders had it in them to be that fucking smart.. and what about the bot..?" the redhead gestured to his companion.

"Oh, him?  Nah.. he's harmless if I tell him to be.  His name's Quill, I made him myself." Soren winked at Quill, earning an appreciative bleep.

The Overboss circled Quill, eyeing him up.  He whistled, clapping a hand against a Mr. Handy.  "Should have you work on Codsworth, sometime."

Codsworth seemed to bask in the sudden attention.  "You're pretty handy, sir.  And I should know.." he mused, chuckling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add in one of my new OCs in as a Raider. Also, my favorite Raider gang will always be the Pack. I went through a furry stage, still am going through it, although I now consider myself an avian furry. Avian furries dress in tails, occasionally ears, and a few well known avian furries even improvise their tails and ears to be more like animatronic accessories (via taking said items apart and reinforcing them with emotionally influenced mechanisms, don't ask how, I have no clue; my best guess is they use an inhibitor band of some kind to control the accessories' behavior from neural readings, I could very well be mistaken). ANYWAY, I just thought I'd give my beloved miscreants a bit of an advantage over the other assholes. Thus I made Soren Abby their intel guy. I'm planning on giving him a bit of a backstory.


	13. Space Odyssey

"So, which park should we try and secure, first?" Victor wondered.

Soren thought for a moment.  Dry Rock Gulch was known for bloodworms.  Nuka Galaxy had haywire robots not even his former comrades could fight through.  Kiddie Kingdom had ghouls, as far as he'd heard.  He hadn't heard anything good as far as the other parks' resident problems.

"What about the futuristic park?  It looks like it could be fun." Piper stood on tiptoes hopefully, anxious to do some exploring.

"It looks like it may have some good salvage.  A commodity we should seriously consider." Danse assessed.  Victor hesitated, considering their input.

MacCready sat up straighter in his harness, letting out an exasperated sigh.  "Oh, god.. you're going to stop and read every terminal in the place, aren't you?"

Victor smiled wryly.  "Only if I get really fucking bored."

The gang erupted into laughter and grumbling, and set off toward the Galactic Zone.

* * *

MacCready looked around at the entrance to the mini park warily, gripping his rifle as Danse carried him around noisily.  There were a few destroyed robots; a Protectron, some sort of vending machine-looking thing, a couple of oddly-shaped Mr. Handys, and a few eyebots.

The bodies of some unlucky traders scattered the battle scene.  Victor crouched down in front of a woman's corpse, pulling a holotape from her breast pocket.

"Well.. they aren't going to need that stuff anymore." MacCready joked.  Danse clasped an armored hand to his face in disapproval.

Dogmeat growled, ears flattening against his head as he honed in on something.  Victor snuck off to the side, gesturing for the others to take cover.  As MacCready inwardly cringed at the ruckus Danse's suit was causing, Victor flattened himself onto his stomach, crawling out after the German Shepard.  Lasers soon rained down on the redhead as he struggled to cover his skull.

MacCready leapt out of the harness, tumbling head over heels painfully.  He swung his rifle from over his shoulder when he regained his balance, checking the rounds in its clip with trembling fingers.

Victor screamed in pain, and Danse stampeded to his side, nearly encompassing him as he knelt over him.  MacCready was forcefully drenched in warm liquid, the syrupy smell of Nuka Cherry assaulting his nostrils as he fought to breathe.

The last thing he saw through the caffeinated haze as he suffocated was Victor's limp form being laid in a suit of power armor, and a petite, umber-skinned Raider firing into a swarm of eyebots.  MacCready fainted soon after.

* * *

Maureen watched with vague interest as the short-haired French woman weaved through the small crowd.  After she'd helped them destroy the last of the rogue robots, she had led them to the old barn Soren had helped her clear.

She couldn't help eyeing the mercenary type as he slept next to the dog.  He grasped the air in his sleep, seemingly on reflex.  She got up from where she'd been sitting, and knelt down next to him, unable to control her curiosity.  She watched him as he slept, and, before she could stop herself, she reached out to touch him.  She cupped his jaw in her hand, furrowing her brows as she wondered just what the hell she was doing.

The man awoke with a start, eyes widening as he realized what was happening.  "Uhh.. do I know you..?" he breathed.

Maureen pulled her hand back, her heart hammering in her chest.  "I-I.. _Aw_ , shit.  I'm so sorry!"

His eyes narrowed as he studied her.  "Wait.. it's _you!_ " his eyes lit up and he smiled.  "You showed up when I blacked out."

She sighed, relieved that he wasn't angry with her for intruding.  "I recognized the Overboss.  Abby had been watching him from that creepy old mansion by the Huboligists' camp.  I force myself to go in there from time to time, to check up on him."

"Abby?  Oh, wait.. you mean _Soren_ Abby, right?" the woman in the red leather jacket and press cap asked.  Maureen nodded.  She walked up to them, waving at the merc.  "So, you're finally up, huh?"

He rolled his eyes at the woman.  "I see _you've_ already escaped Curie's attention." He looked back at the Raider, blushing a little, and smiled.

Maureen felt a sudden warmth in between her thighs, her face growing hot.  He smirked knowingly, resting a hand on her cheek.  Maureen struggled to bring air to her lungs as he pulled her in, planting a kiss gently on her mouth, breathing roughly from his nose.  She couldn't stop herself if her life depended on it.  She melted in his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she returned his kiss.

She suddenly remembered herself falling for a caravan hand as a young teenager.  She had run off with him and his companions, and he had promised her they'd make it big at the Dunwich Borers.  All she remembered after that was stepping out into the sunlight, wounded, confused, and clutching a very bloody strange, jagged blade.

She must've froze, because he pulled back, still holding her.  "Anything wrong..?"

"No, no.. it's just...  I don't even know who you are." she whispered.

"Hey, Mac?  You _kinda_ gotta get to know a girl, first.." the woman in the red jacket teased.

"Shut up, Piper!  Why don't you go back to writing your newspaper?" he retorted.  He looked back at Maureen, an apologetic smile crossing his face.  "My name's MacCready.. you haven't exactly introduced yourself, either, Angel."

"Maureen.  I'm Maureen Sarai Tate."


	14. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Soren get separated from the rest of their ragtag crew on another scouting op for the Gangs. Two strangely familiar girls appear some time later...

"So.. you're _really_ giving the Galactic Zone another shot..?" Soren asked skeptically.  Paladin Danse tightened his grip on his laser rifle.

Victor nodded.  He led the ragtag gang through the front gate, swinging his combat rifle from his back, the young Raider on his flank.  After walking for a while, Dogmeat's ears pricked up, and he growled.  Soren looked back, realizing the others were nowhere to be seen.

"Ah.. Boss?  Your crew get lost, or something?" Soren asked uneasily, trying to ignore the way the hair on the back of his neck bristled.  Dogmeat growled louder, then flattened his ears, a low whine tearing from his throat.  The German Shepard whined a second time before running off with his tail between his legs.

"Abby, watch out!" Victor screamed.  Too late.  A bright, blinding light struck down and enveloped them both.

* * *

They had been wandering somewhat aimlessly for about an hour, occasionally pausing to defend themselves against a few haywire robots, but they still hadn't found Victor, Soren, or Dogmeat.  Danse cracked the seals on his suit, stepping out so he could rest.  He held his hand over his head like a visor, scanning the horizon as the sunlight waned into sunset.

Skittering claws and restless panting alerted him of Dogmeat.  The German Shepard flopped himself down onto his stomach, sprawling out his paws in a puppyish manner.

"Wait a second.. where's Brent?  If that _scum_ killed him, I swear..."

"Calm down, _calm down_ , would'ja?  Quit jumping to conclusions.." Valentine interrupted.  He turned to glare daggers into the Synth.

"Oh, Sir Brent.. I _do_ hope we find him, before it's too late." Codsworth fretted.

* * *

Victor woke up in a daze.  He looked around, trying to get his bearings.  He remembered he and Soren had been knocked out cold by some strange beam of light.  It looked like he was still somewhere in the Galactic Zone, although Soren wasn't anywhere to be found.

Instead, an odd girl lay a few feet away from him.  He stared blankly for a moment before realizing she was wearing the Raider's armor and ripped jeans.  Victor covered a gasp with his hand, but.. that couldn't be his voice..!  He sat up.   _Why does my chest feel so heavy..?_  he wondered.  He pulled himself up to stand, and padded over to a Nuka Cola machine near one of the buildings.  He looked at the reflective glass door; a strawberry pink-haired girl with delicate yet busty features peered back at him.

" _What the fuck?!_  What's happening?!" He squealed, resenting how feminine he sounded.  "Soren..?"

Victor gawked at his...  Er.. _her..?–_  reflection in the glass, and barely noticed the other girl when she got up and nearly stumbled into her.

"U-uhh.. boss.?  That you?" the girl asked.

Victor looked over her shoulder.  "I-I think so.. that you, Abby?" she asked.  She nodded.  They practically jumped out of their skins when they heard a loud _yip_ , followed by a familiar collection of voices.

" _Heyy.._ you found us!" Victor cried out happily.  The gang stopped dead in their tracks, exchanging quizzical looks.

MacCready leapt out from the harness on Danse's suit, landing with a solid _thud._  "Well.. _hello_ , Beautiful." he sighed.

"Where's Brent?  You're.. those are his clothes you're wearing!" Danse accused.  Victor's heart sank.  "You killed him, didn't you?!  Admit it!"

Soren darted behind the vending machine.  Danse stomped up to the Knight, towering over her in his power armor.

Victor froze.  How could she make him understand who she was?   _The tracker collar!_ The redhead tugged at it with trembling fingers, leaving it in its signature, slightly off-center position.  His eyes widened, and he made a small choking noise in the back of his throat.

"...  Victor..?  But.. how?" he breathed, staring at her in disbelief.

"Fuck, man..!  Does it _have_ to be here, where we could get flattened by retarded robots any goddamned second?!" she laughed nervously.

"Wait.. _Vic?!_  Holy sh.. _crap!_ " MacCready exclaimed.  He ran over, circling her like a hawk as he looked her over.  His eyes stopped on her full, bare breasts.  "W-wow, Boss..!"

" _Damnit_ , Creads.  My eyes are up here, you fucking _perv._ " she glowered at him.

* * *

They'd spent the morning hours making their way to Fizztop Grille, in almost complete awkward silence.  Victor was relieved when they finally made it to the lift, and even more relieved to discover that her stuff lay untouched from the last time they were here.

She punched the button, recoiling and rubbing her knuckles gingerly when she realized they were weaker than before.  She hummed absently as she was carried up noisily, holding her hands out before her eyes and studying them.

The rest of the group poured through the double doors and out into the patio, a few holding bottles of booze they'd swiped from Maddox's stall.

"Uhh, Blue..?" Piper called after her as she stepped off the lift.  "You _might_ wanna put a shirt on."

"What?  Why?" Victor asked.

"We can all see yer hooters.  And god _damn_ , they're _huge..!_ " Cait teased.  Hancock chuckled, slapping her a five.

Victor looked down at her chest.  "I _like_ being fucking shirtless, though.. do I _have_ to?"

MacCready snorted.  "Well.. I guess you _don't_ _have_ to..?"

Victor felt strangely pleased, her nipples growing hard as her crotch grew warm.  She gasped, grasping at the front of her jeans.  "What the fuck is this..?!"

"I believe you are becoming.. What is the term... Aroused?" Curie mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys! I know, I know.. it's been too long. Well, guess what? I'm getting rid of my writer's block. Oh, and if you're wondering about the whole 'freak accident,' I found this mod for PS4 (yes, I play on PS4) that turns male player characters into female characters. It is indeed very cringy after activation; I couldn't stand either Soren or Victor until I practically had to make them look like busty porcelain dolls. Ergo, story idea. The real challenge was coming up with a good cause for said spontaneous gender switching.


	15. Raging Zef Boner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone freaks out, look it up. It's a Die Antwoord song.

_MacCready was standing in a meadow.  He looked around him.  A strawberry-haired girl stood off in the distance, and she seemed to notice him staring.  She waved at him, beckoning him over._

_He broke out into a run, and he realized who she was._

_"Victor..?" MacCready asked softly.  She nodded, smiling warmly.  She looked off into the distance, then back at him.  She offered him her hand, and he took it._

_They ran through the meadow, but soon, their surroundings changed.  Everything seemed.. different.  More vibrant, and unbroken.  Sirens wailed loudly.  MacCready saw another girl running beside them, holding a baby.  She was a ginger, with blue green eyes.  Suddenly, a huge mushroom cloud bloomed in the distance.  He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, there were only skeletons where Victor, the ginger, and the infant had been._

"VICTOR, NOO!" MacCready shouted, bolting upright.

* * *

Victor woke up to MacCready shouting her name.  She got up from her bed, crawling over the second twin-sized mattress and padding over to his bedroll.  He was lying facing away from her, but she knew he was awake; he had tensed up when she started picking her way toward him.

"Did you say my name..?" Victor whispered.  He nodded mutely in his sleeping bag.  "Bad dream?" Again, he nodded.  She sighed through her nose, reached for him, and eased him into a sitting position.

"I-I.. you were there.  In my dream?" MacCready murmured.  "There.. there was this girl there, too.  She was a ginger, I think.  With blue green eyes."

Victor froze.   _Ashen.._ she remembered.

"And she was cradling a small baby.  When I blinked, I opened my eyes and all three of you had been long gone to the blast." he sniffed.

"The woman you saw.. that was Ashen.  My wife.  And we had a baby, Shaun." Victor breathed.

MacCready looked into her eyes, empathy and sorrow painted on his face.  He wiped a tear gently from her eye with a lightly calloused hand, making her jump.  He trailed his hand down her cheek, along her neck, and, still holding her hazel blue gaze, carefully cupped one of her breasts.

Victor shivered with ecstasy, biting her bottom lip.  MacCready leaned in, caressing her neck with his mouth, and softly, oh, so softly traced little circles with his index finger along the soft skin of her clavicle.  He murmured sweet nonsense into her neck, and lightly pinched her nipple, inciting a shuddering gasp of pleasure from the redhead.

"Vic.. you're so.. beautiful." he sighed into her hair.  A chill ran down her spine.

"Victoria...  Call me Victoria." She breathed.  He pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"RJ.  My full name is Robert Joseph MacCready." he said huskily.

Victoria planted a kiss on MacCready's cheek.  He tilted his head slightly, leaning in closer.  Her eyes slipped to half mast as the young mercenary locked lips with her, sucking at her bottom lip and following it with a light nip.  She struggled for air, letting out a loud whimper as she tried to remember how to breathe.

MacCready pulled back, panting as he looked at Victoria greedily.  His eyes slipped down from her eyes to his own hand grasping her bare breast, stopping on her jeans.

"Pants.  Off.   _Now._ " he spoke in between breaths.  She unzipped the front of her jeans and wriggled free of them intentionally slowly, eyeing him mischievously.  He growled, pushing her hands away and yanking her pants down past her ankles, and tugging them roughly the rest of the way off over her feet.

She looked around them just to make sure nobody else was awake, yet.  Slumbering and snoring bodies surrounded her, and it seemed Codsworth had gone offline for the night.  She let out a contented sigh, and pulled down her panties (whereas she used to have boxers; must've been that freak accident).

" _Your_ turn, Creads.  I want you to take off  _everything_ but your hat." Victoria purred.

MacCready shrugged off his duster, first.  She watched with a lusty fire in her heart.  He pulled his undershirt up over his head, and undid his belt.  He folded his arms over his chest, smirking at her wryly.

Victoria moaned a little louder than she would've liked, and tugged his pants down and off.  She hesitated, then grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the twin beds, throwing him against one of the mattresses and pinning him on his back.

He groaned, and she could feel him hardening under her.  Victoria decided to see how far she could get before he felt the overpowering urge to take her.  She ground her bare crotch against the throbbing bulge in his boxers.  Another groan ripped from his throat, and she sighed in contentment, grinding herself slowly and a little more forcefully against him, which seemed to break any last ounce of self control he possessed.

MacCready shoved her off so he could stand up, and freed himself of his boxers.  She watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, and laid back suggestively across the mattresses, stretching her arms out in a catlike manner.  He growled like a feral animal, and threw himself on top of her, pinning her down as she tried to adjust her position on the bed.

He found his way inside, and thrust against her.  Victoria gasped, strangely turned on in ways she never had been as a man.  He moaned longingly, thrusting harder, and Victoria felt a familiar dangerous twitch from within her loins, and realized that the young merc was nearing climax.

"Gu _uuhh..._  Vic.. _toria..!_  I- _I.._ I'm going to.."

Victoria ground herself up against him, ensuring that he would be too deep to pull out.  They both climaxed, and were too spent to move.  They fell asleep wound together like leeches, and awoke several hours later to a very shocked crowd of familiar faces huddled around their bedside.


	16. The Night Begins to Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys! It's been a long time coming, but I am *finally* going to introduce the Nick and Hancock aspect of this Fanfic in this chapter.

Hancock didn't know what the hell was wrong with him.  For about a week or so, when Valentine so much as looked at him, sensations like electrifying tingles ran down his spine.  He was tripping shit.  It had to be something he was on, that was it.

He should be sleeping.  He just couldn't.  Everyone else was fast asleep, snuggled up in their sleeping bags, but when he started drifting off, he'd catch himself thinking of Valentine.  He kicked himself free of his sleeping bag, sat up and looked around.  The old Synth was sitting at the bar, smoking a cigarette.

 _Fuck it._ Hancock thought.   _I may be doped up, but I might as well embrace it._  He got up and strode to the bar, taking a seat next to the detective.  His neon eyes flicked to him.

"John." he acknowledged him.  Hancock blinked stupidly.  Nobody had used his first name since he had turned himself into a Ghoul.  "Get hit on the head?  I can sympathize."

Hancock cleared his throat.  "Nah.. I just...  How do you know my first name..?"

Nick took a long drag on his cigarette.  "I remember you from before.  You're the Mayor's younger brother, aren't ya?"

Hancock nodded, wondering why exactly Nick needed to smoke, considering the fact that he was a Synth.  "So, ah.. I've been meaning to tell you something, but...  Well, I figured it could just be something I'm on.."

Nick stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray on the counter.  "Has it got something to do with how you get stage fright, of all things, whenever I'm around?"

"Yeah, about that.. wait.  You noticed that..?" Hancock felt the closest thing he could compare to a blush burn his radiation-scarred cheeks.  "It could just be drug paraphernalia, but I can't stop thinking of you.  It's like.. if you even _look_ at me, I forget my name.  And you're always haunting my dreams..." the Ghoul slammed his face into the bar, embarrassed.

He jumped in his seat when Nick placed his skeletal hand on his shoulder.  He looked up from the wooden veneer of the counter, stomach fluttering.  When he met the Synth's neon yellow gaze, a smile spread across his battered face, and Hancock couldn't help smiling back.

"John, I'd be lying if I told ya I hadn't been having some experimental thoughts, myself." Nick confessed.  He gave his shoulder a gentle but slightly uncomfortable squeeze.  "The fact of the matter is, I've always had a little admiration for you.  Not because of your brother's position, especially not after his whole anti-Ghoul crusade." he paused, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from and offering one to Hancock.  He took it, and Nick lit it for him.  "Remember, I'm a detective, a bit of a fly on the wall.  I looked into the disappearances of those Ghouls after the city kicked them out, and I observed you in your attempts to help them, even lead them to Goodneighbor.

"Yeah, not a whole lot of them survived, and a few of them probably couldn't bring themselves to trust you, what with your brother, and all...  Point is, you took matters into your own two hands, not because you had to, but because you cared.  Because you knew those poor Ghouls wouldn't make it on their own, and because it was right."

Hancock's eyes widened as he realized he had a boner.  "Aw, shit.. I uhh...  Have a bit of a hard on."

Nick shot him a wry smile.  He trailed his metal hand up his neck and cupped his jaw.  "I think I can help with that." he murmured, leaning in closer.

Hancock's heart skipped a beat, and his groin hardened more.  The old Synth looped a leg onto Hancock's lap, and he lost his mind, overwhelmed with lust.

Hancock grabbed Nick by the shoulders and shoved him onto the counter, growling, and kicked his stool over in the process of climbing up to mount him.  Nick sighed lightly underneath him as Hancock struggled with the task of undressing him.

"Let's get this freakshow on the road.." he purred.  He finally managed to strip Nick of his ratty old detective outfit, but he heard the illustrious call of the Mentats in his pack.  "You just wait _here_ and look pretty, Love."

Nick raised a plastic brow at Hancock's sudden need to pause.  Hancock stumbled over the rest of the sleeping crew to get to his pack, frantically rooting through the pockets for his beloved Chem.

"I'm gonna be real mad if this just turns out to be one _big_ Jet flashback.." he growled, finally finding what he wanted.  He cracked the lid open, popping the Mentats capsules into his mouth like candy.  He turned back around, unbuttoning his frock coat and letting it fall to the floor in a big heap.  He drank in the sight of Valentine nude on the counter.  "Now," he rasped.  "where were we..?"

Both of them froze up as they became suddenly aware of Soren and the other Raider loner snickering from their bedrolls.  Hancock hung his head, his tricorner slipping off and landing on Nick's mangled chest.

"Oh my _lord.._ this is just too fuckin' funny." Maureen sighed, wiping tears from her eyes.  "Soren?   _I_ think we should wake the Boss."

Soren whistled through her fingers for Quill, the hybridized Assaultron whirring its way to them, beeping and clicking happily.

"Think you could whip us up something to eat, Quill?" the robot bleeped twice.  "Be sure it smells good enough to wake the Boss's entire gang."

Quill snatched up mounds of meat the crew had poached from different wasteland beasts they'd come across during their trek to Nuka World, and busied itself with cooking up a storm, the old barbecue grill the two Raiders had dragged in from the junkyard blazing as the chunks strewn across the grate sizzled and popped.

Hancock scrambled off Nick, frantically dressing himself as old restaurant came alive with yawning and stretching.  Nick clothed himself in a daze, his glowing eyes seeming not to focus on anything in particular.

Victoria bolted upright on her double bed, MacCready groaning as he was jostled.  They were both completely nude, with the exception of the mercenary wearing his signature hat.  The redhead sniffed the air like a molerat tracking its next victim.  "Mirelurk.. deathclaw, with a hint of oregano.. molerat, radstag, mutfruit.."

MacCready snapped out of his defiant attempt to continue sleeping when he heard mutfruit, fiercely pulling her into a bear hug.  "Victoria, I call dibs on whatever has mutfruit on it!"

Codsworth stared at Hancock and Valentine, making a throat-clearing sound.  "Mister Valentine, Mayor Hancock, ah.. you _do_ realize you're wearing each other's clothes, I hope..?"

Everyone turned and looked at them, Strong bursting into laughter and smacking the wall beside him heartily.

"Metal man so _stupid.!_ "

Hancock looked down, and, to his horror, realized that he had grabbed Nick's trench coat and fedora, while the old Synth had pulled on his frock and tricorner.


	17. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys.. this may or may not end up being a long chapter, because at long last, with much encouragement from my YouTube buddy, Cronomancer (my channel is IamTheWalrusHearMeRoar), I'm going to move forward with the main storyline. Also, I suddenly (LOL) felt the overwhelming urge to give both Creads and Revolution their own love children with Victoria before I bring back Vic the Dick. If anyone wants to know what he looks like since I gave him back his manhood, you can check out my channel on or around Monday; I'm out of town this weekend, so I'll have to wait till I can continue recording. Either way, brace yourselves for one hell of a double-pregnancy (and if you're wondering just how the fuck there can be two fathers, yes, it is possible; one father fertilizes an egg, and soon afterward another father fertilizes a second egg, the litter my dog was born in was conceived the same way).

Danse still dreamt of Victor.. er... _Victor_ _ia.?_  He couldn't help it, even though it still felt like he was betraying her former self.  He sat with his back up against the side of the lift, deep in thought as he stared out at the starry sky.  The others had left hours ago to check out Nuka Town Market.

"Can't sleep?" a voice called softly.   _Speak of the Devil.._  the Paladin thought.  He turned so he could face her.  She chewed her lower lip, seemingly discouraged.  "Hey, uhh.. I guess I can understand if this is too weird.  You know.. me being a chick and all..."

Danse stood up, and pulled Victoria close, holding her to his chest, stroking her hair gently.  "I'll admit, it is a bit odd, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.  I.. feel guilty for being especially attracted to you as you are now."

He could've sworn he heard her purr as she gave in to lust, unzipping his uniform greedily.  He sighed longingly as she forced a hand under the form-fitting material and stroked his inner thigh, his groin hardening.  His Knight's hand lightly trailed down to the base of his member, but then she pulled her hand out of his uniform, smirking at him teasingly.

" _Wha.._ why'd you _stop..?_ " Danse pouted, despite himself.

She padded over to the double-bed, staring him down expectantly.  She smiled ruefully, wiggling her way out of her jeans.  "Danse Danse Revolution, you should _know_ me better, by now.."

He freed himself of the uniform, growling under his breath.  She ran back over to him, wearing only her bra, panties, and tracker collar, and took him by the hand and lead him back to the bed.  He pulled her into an embrace, fumbling at her back to unhook her bra as she pulled her panties down and off.

Victoria removed his hands, unhitching the straps with an odd look on her face.  Danse hesitated, brows furrowing and mouth opening in a mew of confusion.  She took him by surprise when she toppled him back against the mattresses, mouthing his jawline, along his neck, and along his pecs, pausing to tongue and nip each of his nipples hungrily, eliciting an ecstatic moan to escape his throat.

His bulge hardened more and twitched dangerously, his stomach tightening into a knot.  She straddled him, guiding him inside and thrusting herself against him.  He groaned loudly, and before he could stop himself, he came into her.  She stopped grinding onto him, settling down on top of him in an almost catlike manner.

They were fast asleep in a matter of minutes, much too spent to even bother with underwear.

* * *

 Victoria woke up oddly more dazed than usual, and felt sick soon after.  She leapt to her feet, dislodging her Paladin in the process and giving him quite the rude awakening.  He pushed himself up on his elbows, throwing her a concerned look.  She sprinted into the lower levels of Fizztop Grille, body slamming into a bathroom stall, Danse close on her tail.

After a few moments of dry retching into the toilet bowl, she slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

"What's happening to you, Knight..?" Danse asked softly, kneeling down in front of her, obviously unsure of what to do.

"Uh.. I...  I-I think I might actually be _pregnant._ " Victoria breathed.

His eyes widened, and he gasped.  "But.. how?   _How_ could _you_ be pregnant?"

MacCready stood frozen in shock in the doorway, his fly already down for a morning piss.

* * *

Maccready couldn't help hovering over his boss, and he hated how combative Danse was when he asked too many questions.  Victoria was already beginning to show, and the young mercenary wondered if it was twins.

Curie, often her go-to for questions about her pregnancy, was bubbling with excitement over the scientific observations to be made.

* * *

CVRIE'S PERSONAL JOURNAL LOG:

_[Madame Victoria has experienced increased morning sickness with each trimester, and seems more prone to emotion than before._

_Is this normal for someone formerly male?  How was this change brought on?_

_Either way, she's due any day, now, and the possibilities are intriguing.  Monsieur Danse and Monsieur MacCready act more like territorial anim]_

Journal Unfinished...

BACK TO MAIN SCREEN?

* * *

"Holy _shit_ , Vic!  Just keep pushing!" Maccready shouted, his hand locked in her death grip.  Danse stood at her other side, pushing hair from her face and offering words of encouragement.

"Here comes the baby!" Curie squealed happily, cradling a tiny infant with a full head of auburn hair.  She gasped, passing the newborn off to Piper.

"What is it?  What went wrong?!" Danse demanded.

"Madame Victoria, you _must_ keep pushing.  There is another baby, I think..!" Curie's eyes lit up with excitement.

Half an hour later, Curie delivered the second baby, a bit bigger and with jet black hair.  After they'd cleaned off the two newborns and bundled them up as best they could, the petite Synth made a startling announcement.

* * *

 Victoria eyed the babies, studying their faces and her two lovers' features.  "So.. the girl is MacCready's, and the boy... The boy is Danse's..?"

"Affirmative.  You are both fathers of _very_ unique children." Curie beamed at them.

"Well.. I know what I want to name my daughter." Maccready exclaimed.  "My son's name is Duncan, and I think we should call his baby sister something starting with a 'D'.  How 'bout Dakota?"

She opened her eyes, revealing sapphire blue irises.  She peered out at her half brother still suckling beside her, yawning delicately.

"Well, look at that.." Hancock mused.  "I've never seen anything so beautiful unless I was high."

Nick rolled his eyes, giving the Ghoul a light shove.

Danse watched his newborn son as he fed.  "If it's alright, I'd like to name my boy Cutler.  After the FEV, I never could bring myself to give him a proper goodbye."

"I already had my turn to name a kid, and I lost him.  Plus, I was still a dude when I had mine.  Seems only fair that you name them." Victoria murmured, failing to hide her depression at the mention of her firstborn son.

"Yeah, about Shaun.." Maccready sighed, looking suddenly guilty.  "Vic?  You've helped all of us without ever getting anything back in return.. won't you let _us_ help _you_ for a change?"

Strong stomped up to her bedside, pounding a fist against his chest.  "Human good fighter, Strong follow you always.. Strong help find puny human with leader."

Codsworth's opticals focused in on his master. "It would mean the _world_ to see young Shaun again!"

* * *

They'd been trailing a Courser's signal for days.  Now that they finally pinpointed where he'd holed up, Victoria couldn't bring herself to actually see Shaun again.  It just felt wrong to see her son the way she was.

MacCready carried Dakota on his back, his rifle  slung over his shoulder beside her makeshift baby harness, and they'd made similar modifications to his own harness on Danse's power armor.  They both exchanged looks.

The crew's awkward silence was cut short when a bright light struck down, encompassing Victoria.  All MacCready could make out was his boss's limp form as it seemed to shift.

"Vic..?" he called, his voice hitching nervously.

"...  Urrrggh.." a familiar yet unfamiliar voice moaned.  The light burned icy blue for a moment, then blinding white.  The silhouette within attempted to stand up, but lacked the strength and fell back down again.

MacCready watched, mesmerized, as the light dissolved, revealing a tall man with strawberry red hair, stray locks sweeping his face.

" _Vic?!_  Is that really you?" MacCready could've jumped for joy, but Dakota was sound asleep. The man struggled to look at any of them.  He did look a bit like Victor, if it weren't for the stubble dusting his chin, and his tall and lanky build, whereas Victor had always sported a stylish mustache, and was tall and ripped.

He finally managed to look up at MacCready.  "...  Creads..?   _Ugh_ _.._ I feel different."

Danse clanked up to him, eyes growing wide.  " _Brent?_  Victor.. you look... strange, it's like you've gotten _younger_ as well as returned to your true gender."

"Revolution!   _Shit!_  Where's Cutler?!" Victor cried out.

A small hand gripped Danse's armored shoulder, followed by another, and then a child peeked out at Victor from behind his head.  "Daddy?  Who's that..?" the child asked.

" _Cutler.?!_ " Victor stared at him in disbelief.  Danse cracked the seals on his suit, climbing out and helping him out of the harness.

"He.. he looks so much like me.. my hair, my eyebrows.. he's got my ears." Danse hesitated.  "Victor, he has your cheeks, freckles, he even has a slight pigmentation marking around his eye; not as obvious as yours, however.  He even has your eyes.."

"I don't _have_ two dads, though.. where's my mom?  Does she have a brother?  Are you my uncle?" He stared back at him in confusion.

"Well.. ah...  I was originally a dude.  Somehow I turned into a chick, and I had you and Dakota..  I guess I'm a dude again..?  Long story." Victor stammered.

"Well.. I _guess_ it's not as weird as how you and my other dad didn't recognize me."

* * *

MacCready stared up at the green skyscraper. They'd already had to kill off a few Gunners guarding the entrance; he was definitely glad Curie and Codsworth had decided to take Dakota and Cutler back with them to Sanctuary, where they'd be far from the danger ahead.

Victor swung his pack off his shoulder, fishing out some sort of signal grenade, tossing it forcefully on the ground in a few feet away.

"That's got an interesting rhythm.  I'm guessing it's for your many 'pet projects', kid?" Valentine held his skeletal hand over an eye, analyzing the interference.

Several moments later, a small squad of hybridized robots clanked and whirred into the area.  Victor turned and faced his gang, smiling proudly.

"Everyone, while you were chilling at the market, Soren and I constructed seven units of 'Automatrons', as he calls them.  This particular unit is one of the most heavily modified series we've built." Victor explained.  "Rusty, front and center."

A robot with an Assaultron's head, Mr. Handy thruster, and 'Brainbot' torso and arms equipped with railway rifles and Protectron hand armor bumbled forward.

"Recon sensors, laser eye, and good, old fashioned rail spike ammo." Victor grinned.  "Jinx, show yourself."

Three low, dragging beeps answered, and his new favorite toy shimmered into view beside him.  Victor beamed back at the group, explaining that he and Soren had taken great pride in this particular creation:  an hydraulically armored Assaultron with the head of a Brainbot, capable of a devastating psybeam attack, and armed with Gatling lasers.

"Meet our secret weapon." Victor clapped a hand on the robot's shoulder fondly.

"What's so special about him?" MacCready blurted out before he could stop himself.

Jinx made a few low, annoyed clicking sounds, seemingly offended.  The redhead, apparently understanding the odd, non-verbal language, patted the pouting robot's shoulder.

"Just watch this guy.  Jinx in his element?  I'd bet my old drill sergeant would think twice.  He was.  Such.  An _ass.!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Been a while (again), I know. With the next chapter, I am planning on introducing a couple new OCs. Hint/spoiler alert: CHINA WALKS AMONG THE COMMONWEALTH! (Although I, myself have yet to find the infamous Red Menace. I mainly just wanted to find him so our favorite Vault Dweller can do what he does best; VIC THE DICK, FUCK YEAH! LOL.


	18. Cat On The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'd been screwing around with mods, as usual. I (finally) found Captain Zao's submarine, using an extremely unique OC pertaining to his lair off the coast of Boston. Her backstory is.. complicated. She's mostly human, and I say 'mostly, because I wanted her to be exceptional as well as very strange. Let's just say that Captain Leopard G-string (I stole a comment from the Sole's sarcasm) managed to score some human tail, I'm not telling why, I haven't articulated any good excuses; you can all make your own theories).

Lei crept through the streets of Boston, occasionally stealing a quick glance behind her to make sure Jakob was still following.  Jakob glowered at her each time she checked, the dirt on his face slowly forming lines of caked grit.

As she was about to look over her shoulder again, she heard voices.  She froze, Jakob stumbling into her and throwing her off balance, his stream of curses barely muffled by her gloved hand as she smothered him.

"Be _silent!_ " she hissed, glaring daggers into him with her black eyes.  He snorted into the leather of her glove, rolling his eyes.  "Do you not hear them?!  How stupi–"

Her ire was cut short when she heard paws slapping the pavement, turning to see a German Shepard bounding up to them, tongue lolling as he panted.

"Dogmeat!  Where're you going?" a tall man with vibrant red hair shouted, running after him.  "What.. the _fuck..?_ "

* * *

Danse stomped after Victor, Cutler gripping at his armored shoulders for dear life.  He ignored MacCready's confusion as he ran, stopping dead in his tracks as he realized what Dogmeat had led the Knight off to.

A small girl cowered behind her hands, a dirty boy in ragged clothing clutching a rusted handmade shank as he glared at them, standing protectively over her.

He blinked, eyeing the girl.  Something about her seemed.. off, although he couldn't put his finger on what, exactly.  She wore a military uniform, her hands gloved in black leather.  Her light skin was slightly chalky, her eyes squeezed shut.

Still.. why was he so unnerved?  He tore his gaze away, noticing the redhead oddly quiet, tension written over his body language in black.

"You.. you're..." Victor murmured.  He stared fixedly at her uniform.

The strange girl slowly lowered her hands, standing up as she sighed through her nostrils.  "I'm Chinese.  My yéyé.. my grandfather was marooned many year ago.  His Yangtze.. the engine does not work.  Yéyé was lucky enough to reach the harbor unharmed."

She sniffed, blindly grasping at the boy's shoulder, whispering something into his ear as he allowed her to tug him closer.  He frowned, looking back at her with a shrug.

Danse felt his stomach tighten.  "Open your eyes." he said flatly.

She tightened her grip on her friend's grubby shirt, slowly opening her slanted eyes as she looked up at him.  His breath caught in his chest, his heart stopping as he realized they were black.

"Ghoul eyes.." he breathed.

* * *

 Lei struggled to breathe as she forced her eyes shut again, hiding her face behind her hands.  Everything sounded far away as she heard Jakob spitting out curses, rounding on the two men dangerously as he swore.   _Breathe.  You must breathe, Lei._ she thought.

Her legs gave out, and Lei saw white as she tumbled forward, vaguely registering the breeze as her hat was knocked off her head.

* * *

"...  Her grandpa just wants to go home, 'cept he can't, his boat is broken down, 's what he sent her out here for.  I told you, she ain't lying!" Jakob's voice sounded distant.

Lei could not open her eyes.  Even if she were able to, she felt ashamed at the adults' judgement.  Her head felt bare.  She felt for her hat only to touch her hair.

"Victor, I can understand your suspicion towards the girl.  After all, the original Nick was from your time.  You were a soldier, and you fought for your country.  Thing is, that war is over.  It ended when the bombs dropped." a gravelly voice spoke.  Lei felt oddly soothed by the stranger.

Bracing herself for the worst, she sighed slowly through her nostrils, and opened her eyes, finding herself in an unfamiliar bed with a tattered duster wrapped around her.  The jacket from her uniform was folded neatly on a small table beside her, her hat sitting on top.  The red haired man stood a few feet away, arguing with some sort of automaton, the power armor motionless against a wall outside the room.

"You're finally awake." the automaton said, startling her as she realized the voice had belonged to it.  It narrowed its glowing amber eyes briefly before giving her a gentle smile.  "Never seen a Synth in your life, have you kid?"

Lei scooted herself backward on the bed so she could sit up, clutching the duster in her small hands and examining it.

"Creads!  Come get your jacket, she's awake."

A shorter, scrawny man with messy brown hair walked in, watching her with bright, sad blue eyes.  He sat almost gingerly on the bed, his face briefly splitting into a small smile.

"MacCready." he said softly, holding his hand out to her.  Lei hesitated for a moment and grasped it in hers.  His hand was warm, like Yéyé's smile, and she jumped back, shying away as she felt homesick.  MacCready nodded calmly.  "It's alright.  I understand how you feel.  I grew up underground, in a settlement called Little Lamplight.  It was run by kids, and we all watched each other's backs.  Most of us never knew our parents, and we had one rule:  no Mungos allowed.  No grown ups."

Jakob gasped excitedly, drinking in his story.  Lei let out a breath she did not know she was holding.  She straightened up, something falling into her lap as the covers shifted.  She eyed it warily for a moment before picking it up.  It was an odd looking stuffed bear, light blue with dark red stitches for a mouth, and its right foot was adorned with a white patch.  It had one small, black button eye, the other missing, the thread that had secured it still overlapping into an 'x'.

"MacCready, weren't you saving that for Duncan..?" the red haired man asked.

"C'mon, Vic.. _look_ at her.  She could use a toy.  If she really did come out looking for something to help her grandpa, chances are she hasn't had much time to be a kid.  Besides, Duncan's more into cars."

Lei fidgeted with MacCready's duster, unsure of how to react.  Finally, she found the words, speaking slowly and carefully.  "You.. are not bothered by my yéyé.  Grandfather doesn't upset you.?"

MacCready shook his head, reaching out to pat her shoulder.  His brows furrowed, and he stared at her with a sudden air of curiosity.  "Your grandpa.  He's a Ghoul, right?"

Lei nodded.

"Why don't you look that much like a Ghoul?"

"My wàipó was human, as was my bàba, but.. my mama...  I asked my father once, and he said she was not human, not Ghoul." Lei hesitated, licking her lips and picking at a loose thread on the duster.  "She could not age, not without an _implant_ , I think.  I never knew Mama.. my father told me she had been stolen away by 'Courser' not long after my birth."


	19. My Little China Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't jump to conclusions, guys! Like the other chapters of this work, its title is the name of a song. This particular song was written by David Bowie, and although he often mentions a 'China girl,' many of us Bowie fans still continue to debate its meaning. I thought it would be fitting now that I've decided Lei Zao and the gang should get to know each other. And yes, that includes the Dick (if you don't remember who I'm referring to, go back a chapter or two; you'll see what I mean).

Danse busied himself with taking apart his laser rifle, scattering its components across the workbench as he separated the pieces according to function, having to stoop down a little due to his height.  Cutler had climbed up to the roof of the old truck stop, messing with the spotlights that illuminated the decorative rocket.

He worked restlessly, his frustration mounting as he tried deliberately to distract himself from the abomination in the back room.  No, only his gun and the garage mattered.

_There's Brotherhood, then there's everything else.  Nothing in between._

Paladin Danse silently repeated the mantra, forcing anything else from his mind.  Only when he felt a stinging sensation in his palm did his focus break.  He set the magazine down, resting the tool he had been using next to it, and pulled off his glove.

He realized he'd sliced into his palm, the gash weeping blood.  Upon further examination, he found that the bladed gear he'd run the magazine across was smeared with crimson.

Danse heaved an exasperated sigh as he left the workbench and strode through the door and into the main interior of Red Rocket.

".. stolen away by 'Courser' not long after my birth." came a small voice from the back room.  He stopped dead in his tracks, his blood running cold.

_A Synth.. the child was a Synth?_

He burst blindly into the room, swatting away the tattered old Operators flag Gage had hung in the doorway by driving knives through the fabric and into the wall on either side of the doorframe.

* * *

Jakob quickly flanked Lei as she cowered, her eyes growing wide enough that her dark, reddish irises were just visible.  He shook his head, pushing away his weird feelings for her and wrenched Sidka from its sheath, scattering bits of dirt over the bed and guarded his friend with his other arm.  He turned up his nose at the soldier, scoffing at the absence of his power armor as he glowered defiantly up at him.

"That.. _thing_ is a Synth?!" he demanded incredulously, glaring wildly at Lei.  He opened his mouth again to speak, but was quickly interrupted by the broken detective.

"Y'know, last time I checked, it's pretty damn obvious that I'm a Synth, myself.  You don't see me running off burning settlements to the ground, and I sure as hell don't plan on it anytime soon, _Danse._ " he dug through his pockets, coming up with a flip lighter and a pack of cigarettes and taking one out and flicking it open, puffing heavily on his smoke before fixing the soldier with a furious look.

" _AND IF YOUR FACE WASN'T ALWAYS STUFFED UP MAXON'S ASS 24/7, WE WOULDN'T EVEN BE HAVING THIS PROBLEM!!_ " a Ghoul's voice shouted from outside.

* * *

Danse ground his jaw, balling his hands into fists, silently seething.  The old Synth ignored him and continued.  "As for _Lei_ , because _she_ has a name, her _mother_ was a Synth."

Valentine sighed and continued, flashing him a knowing look before replacing it with a mask of calm.  Danse all but forgot his anger, so baffled he barely hardly noticed that Valentine had elbowed Victor in the shoulder until he heard Victor grunt with displeasure.  "Besides.. isn't there someone else you should be bothering?"

* * *

Victor gripped his shoulder, already feeling a bruise forming.  He snorted, mildly amused.  "Fucking _hell_ , man.. he should remember how goddamned bony that busted arm of his is before he jabs people with it." he muttered to himself.

He looked around, squinting through the dark of the night as he looked for Danse.

_T-ck.. t-ck.._

He jumped, startled, and blinked slowly.  When Victor opened his eyes, he could see his surroundings better, which he was sure wasn't normal.

_Zzzzzzt.._

Almost instinctively, he shut his eyes for a second time.  He opened his eyes again, realizing that his vision had seemingly zoomed in.  His gaze swept the decrepit gas station, and he cautiously walked forward, taking small steps so he wouldn't trip.

"Soldier..?" a familiar voice rumbled behind him.  Victor whipped around, Danse's concerned face suddenly much closer than usual.

"Fuck, _fuck!_  Zoom out! _Zoom out!_ " Victor hissed under his breath, blinking stupidly as he rubbed at his eyes.

Danse looked at him, a strange expression playing on his face.  "...  Brent?  What's wrong with you?"

"I.. I don't know.  I don't want to know.  All I know is that I have to get inside the Institute."


	20. A Day In The Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although I still have no goddamned clue how to view readers' comments, I'm sure that by now some of you are wondering what the fuck goes on in my head. Jeebus, why're you asking me?! LOL, I'm unashamed of my demented gray matter. Why should I be? Honestly, with how screwed up my childhood was, I speak for myself and my friends — who are ALL a bit nuts, mind you — when I say that anyone truly human would soon go off the deep end after living childhoods like ours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular chapter will undoubtedly tie in with quite a bit of previously unexplainable shit. That's right! I've FINALLY articulated the perfect plot twist. Brace. Yourselves.

Shaun paced back and forth at his desk, often pausing to watch the microphone expectantly. His mind battled between doubt and hope.

The security system blinked, and a fierce chill ran down his spine.

_He's here._

He activated the intercom.

* * *

Victor was blinded by bright light, an oddly familiar feeling tearing at him before he landed down painfully.  He blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the lighting of the room he'd dropped into.

He looked around, noticing a console a few feet in front of him.  He approached it, fishing out the viral program before sitting down at the terminal.

It only took a minute for the virus to finish scanning the database, and Victor was relieved when alarms didn't go off.  He removed the holotape, grinning smugly as he stood up and stretched, sighing as his spine cracked pleasantly in all the right places.

He even considered taking a couple hits of Jet, but was slammed back into reality when a voice rang through the speakers.

" _Hello.  I was wondering if you'd come._ "

* * *

_You are not who you think you are._

Victor didn't care that he just ran from the only person who could give him answers.  He didn't care about anything until he had gotten the _fuck_ out of there.

He slowly took notice of where he'd landed.  He watched with widening eyes as a pack of deathclaws growled at the intruder in their den.  It didn't take a genius to know he had only one shot of escape, and then it would become as simple as fight or flight.

Victor swung his pack off his shoulder, rifling through it and snatching up the flare gun and a handful of specially modified flares, loaded, and shot into the air.

* * *

Danse shielded his eyes as the vertibird took off, kicking up clouds of dust as a figure stood huddled in the aftermath.

He squinted and realized who it was, his heart skipping a beat.  "Victor?"

The dust lifted enough for him to properly see the strawberry red locks, now definitely longer than was appropriate for active duty. The skin above his upper lip had taken on some peach fuzz, and Danse felt stupid for being surprised that it was ginger.  His chin dusting was long enough that it looked like a small goatee.

"Why're you staring at me like that..?" Victor asked, looking him over.  "Listen, I-I.. can't see you or the gang anymore.  I'm... I'm sorry." the redhead spoke softly, his expression devoid of life.

Danse tried to protest, but before he could say a word, Victor took off.

* * *

Victor ran.  Every muscle in his body screamed for rest.  He didn't give a fuck.  Each bone he had ached excruciatingly.  He didn't give a fuck.  Even as the Paladin struggled to catch up, shouting his name, he didn't _give a fuck._

Victor tripped over an upturned tree root and tumbled forward, screaming in pain as he broke his hand.  He refused to stop, because it didn't matter.  Nothing mattered anymore.  Father's words echoed in his mind, mocking him.

_You are not who you think you are._

Then who the hell was he?  Something inside told him to remember the first memory he could think of.

* * *

_Victor beat his fists against the cold, frosted glass, watching in terror as Ashen fought to protect Shaun.  He felt helpless, trapped as Kellogg shot her, the woman in the clean room suit sighing with relief as she pried their son from Ashen's limp grasp._

_The computer spoke once more, and he felt himself freeze over again as the stasis was reinitialized._

_He awoke much later, how long he had no clue, and fought his way through the Vault, bewildered by how much the roaches had grown.  He looted the Pip-boy, and vacated, stepped onto the elevator platform and ground his jaw as it lurched up to the surface._

_The last thing he could remember from his discovery of the Commonwealth was a bright, blinding light.._

* * *

Danse had been chasing after Victor for what felt like hours, now.  He was at the verge of collapse, his legs threatening to to give out.  Panting, he stopped to lean against the side of a ruined building, beads of sweat rolling down his face.

He wiped his brow and looked around him, a lone, shuddering form lying beside an uprooted tree catching his eye.

He forced himself up, cautiously taking a few steps forward, instantly recognizing the ginger-rooted strawberry locks.

"Victor..?" Danse called softly.  The Knight let out a low whimper, reaching a hand out to grasp at his uniform.

"Ash.. Ashen..!" he pleaded.  Danse's eyes grew wide as he noticed a tear slipping down Victor's cheek.

Danse gripped his shoulders, shaking him gently at first, then frantically as he tried to wake him.  "Victor, listen to my voice.  Wake up, come back to me, Knight."

The redhead woke with a start, his eyes dilated from sleep.  He stared back at Danse, paling, and struggled to free himself.

"Why won't you _talk_ to me?!  Let me in, tell me what the _hell_ is wrong with you!"

Victor gulped, blinking rapidly.  "I...  I can't.  I'm sorry, but I'd be killed." he muttered, another tear streaking down his cheek.  "You'd never understand.  And there're more important duties at hand."

* * *

Victor handed the holotape to Proctor Ingram, staring down at his feet rather than looking up to meet her eye.  It didn't change a fucking thing, anyway; he could feel her eyes boring down on him, but he didn't give a shit if she was suspicious.

He tuned her out as she droned on about some "big project" they needed help with, watching his Paladin with as little emotion as possible given the circumstances.

He ignored the people around him; the sensation spreading in his chest felt like the flame inside had reduced to the last embers of a dying fire.

* * *

"You sure you need another one?" the mess hall officer gestured pointedly at the shot glass Danse had just slammed back onto the table.

He'd been holed up at the bar for the better part of the night, getting up from his seat every now and then to pace the command deck; Knight Brent back down at the Airport, helping out on Liberty Prime's repairs.  Paladin Danse had tried several times to pull him aside to talk, but each time he was shrugged off.

He nudged the glass away, forcing himself to focus when he heard footsteps approaching.  He jumped in his seat as a hand rested on his shoulder, and turned around to see Victor smiling shyly down at him.

The Knight's lips parted slightly as he sniffed, an odd choking noise coming from his throats before he burst out laughing.  "Uhm.. Revolution?" he stammered, failing to keep a straight face.  "Fuck it..!  Late night?"

* * *

Lei watched the man with the strawberry-red hair as he clambered up gracelessly into the aircraft, the soldier in power armor stomping up and gripping the safety handle as he hauled himself in.  She took a deep breath, quickly popping a Stealthboy with practiced ease before sprinting up onto the platform just in time to catch the boarding ladder before it could take off.

She maneuvered herself into a steadier position, looping her leg over the rungs and squeezing her eyes shut, refusing to look down as she clutched her hat with her free hand.

She'd never thought herself capable of feeling so sick.  She felt as though she left her stomach back at the old Airport.  Lei whined with displeasure, shuddering as she swallowed back bile, silently praying she hadn't been heard.

The strong winds of the aircraft's blades whipped her small body around as she clung on with all her might, only relaxing when they finally lurched to a stop, landing heavily on a hill covered in dead weeds.

The red-haired man leapt off, elbowing her in the head.  Lei hissed in pain, taking off her hat to rub her scalp clumsily, losing her balance.  She flinched as she tumbled onto the ground.

He turned around, crouching down and kneeling in front of her.

"Hey, I remember you.. Lei, right?" he asked gently.  She hesitated for a moment and nodded.  He held out his hand.  "Victor Brent, Vic for short."

Lei eyed him before putting her hand in his.

"What're you doing out here?  Didn't my friends look after you and your friend?" he asked, looking around for Jakob.

"I left him and follow you." Lei said.  "What are you doing near the Blast?"

The armored soldier stomped forward, lowering his gun slightly.  "This 'Blast,' you're.. referring to the Glowing Sea?  Where the bombs first hit."

She nodded, watching Victor Brent as he pulled on a strange suit he'd fished from his pack, securing his helmet.  The soldier looked down at her, looking conflicted and concerned.

"You said your grandfather was a Ghoul, if I'm not mistaken?" he asked.  Lei nodded.  He shifted onto one leg, looking slightly uncomfortable.  "And your mother was a Synth.  Are you going to need protection from the radiation, then.?"

Lei blinked, going over it inside her head.  She mustered her courage and met his eye.  "No, I don't think.  It's not a problem."

Victor Brent cleared his throat, waving at them with two fingers and lazy thumb.  "C'mon.  No more fucking around.  Haylen can't wait forever."

* * *

Paladin Danse found it strangely difficult to focus on Haylen as she debriefed Knight Brent, battling with his concern for him.  The redhead hadn't spoken to him much since his return from the Institute, and hadn't said much of anything to anyone, for that matter.

Danse watched him from the corner of his eye, catching his eye once or twice.  What happened to him while he was away?  It seemed like Victor's usual brawn had gone, the man standing beside him only a shell of who he once was.

Haylen stood up rigidly, saluting them proudly.  Danse shook his head, brushing off his doubts as he nodded to her.

* * *

Victor walked through the radioactive haze silently, the ashes and pools of glistening oil crunching and sloshing beneath his boots.  He occasionally stole a glance at the Paladin stomping at his side, Lei lightly bouncing in the harness, fast asleep.

Victor considered going for broke and revealing what Father had told him.  His friends wouldn't diss him.. would they?   _You're lying through your teeth and you know it.  They'd fucking shoot you, and who would blame them?_ a small voice hissed at him from the back of his mind.

No.  No, he couldn't tell them.  The gang was his family, but he knew it'd be better if they never found out.

"Soldier?" Danse tore Victor from his thoughts.

He coughed and scratched the back of his head.  "Yeah?"

"We're here.  I believe this was a weapons manufacturing facility." he said, using the butt of his rifle to point at the massive blackened pyramid towering before them.

They worked together to force the doors open, grunting with the effort, and entered a whole new kind of hell.

* * *

Lei jumped down from the harness, blowing back a loose strand of hair as she landed catlike on the cold and dusty metal flooring.  Victor wriggled out of the strange suit, hobbling on one leg as he freed his leg.  She couldn't help giggling as he stumbled into the soldier, smacking his head on his metal chest plate and cursing as he rubbed his scalp and groped blindly for his shoe.

Lei quickly fell silent as she picked up another scent.  She sniffed rapidly, fidgeting with the family heirloom sheathed at her belt.

"What is it?" Victor asked, watching her as he tracked the scent with lips parted.

"I know their smell.  They are sick.  Yéyé told me they don't remember to act." she whispered.  "Aiyah.. this is bad, very bad."

He turned to look at the soldier, sighing.  "Revolution, you should take point."

Lei frowned, confused.  "Rev.. you're Revolution.?"

Revolution sighed, removing his helmet to run a hand through his thick black hair.  "Honestly, Brent.  You're the worst."

Victor Brent sniggered, showing him his middle finger.

Lei tried to understand what happened between them, but was caught short when she heard ragged nails dragging across the rusted metal.  She stiffened, blood running cold.  Fear was quickly replaced with anger, turning her about face as the two men bickered.

"Be silent!" Lei hissed, slapping Brent across his exposed midriff.  He winced, rubbing gingerly at the small handprint blooming on his lightly freckled skin.  "Can you not hear?  You wake them with your stupidity!"

"Bitch.." Brent muttered under his breath, still rubbing.

Lei inhaled deeply, mustered her courage, and approached the Shēngbìng on unsteady legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, 'Shēngbìng' translates to 'Sick' in English. I've been looking up Chinese phrases, aiming to add some mystery to Lei's character, what with her relation to Captain Zao.


End file.
